


Just a Game

by orphan_account



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Anxiety Disorder, Explicit Language, F/M, M/M, Minor Character Death, POV Multiple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2017-12-27 04:19:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 51,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester knows how the Hunger Games work, and he knows what he has to do. He can't let feelings get attached. He has to make it back home for Sam. But when he meets Castiel Novak, the quiet yet intriguing tribute from District 5, his rules get thrown out the window. Suddenly he's deciding between his brother, and a boy he's never met, but is oddly drawn to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In this AU, Sam and Dean were older when Mary died. Sam was four, and Dean was eight. John died when Dean was fifteen and Sam was eleven.

**Dean**

Not for the first time, Dean Winchester wished he didn't have to wake up. He wished the responsibilities of running a family didn't rest on his shoulders, he wished he could wake up to a happy family, with his mother alive and breathing, his father giving her a kiss on the cheek before he left for work, and Sam sitting at the table, _smiling_. He wished he could be a normal seventeen year old boy, he wished he didn't have to provide for Sam, he wished he could wake up to his mother smiling at him with her warm blue eyes. He wished he had never had to learn how to hunt, he wished his parents were still alive, he wished his name wasn't entered in the reaping ball forty two times. he wished that Sam was happy.

But wishing didn't work.

Everyday, Dean got dressed into his hunting gear and took Sam into the forest that surrounded District 12. It was his escape. He'd never intended for Sam to become a hunter too, and if John knew he was doing it, he would have been beaten into next week, but desperate times called for desperate measures. If Dean were to get chosen for the games, Sam would be all on his own, and would die within the first week from starvation. Luckily for them, Dean had a back up plan. A back up plan that came in the form of a 16 year old girl named Katniss Everdeen.

Katniss and Dean were similar in many ways. They both had a younger sibling they were desperate to care for, they both lost their fathers to the same explosion, they both were the sole providers for their families and they both learnt everything they knew about hunting from their fathers. It was those similarities that brought them together, that built the mutual trust in each other. They'd made a pact about three years earlier that if either of them were to die in the games, they would look after each other's families.

Dean sighed at he pulled on his boots. He was considering letting Sam sleep in, and letting him off the hook with hunting; but if he was chosen in the Reaping today, he wanted Sam to know as much as possible about hunting. The reaping day was always the worst to go hunting on, because every time, Dean thought he would be leaving Sam. Today was no different.

"Hey Sammy, rise and shine." Dean walked into Sam's room and opened the curtains, light shining on Sam's face.

Whenever Dean looked at Sam's innocent face, he felt a surge of anger pass through him. He hated what this world had done to Sam. It had forced him to grow up far to quickly and had marred his face with a kind of weariness that should not be seen on a thirteen year old. Dean could barely remember the last time Sam smiled. Dean had always been the one to hide everything behind a thin veil of humor. That was the was Dean dealt with things, he joked about them. It irritated Katniss, but Sam didn't seem to care. Sam was always just comfortably numb. No emotion, no feelings, no nothing. 

"Do I have to?" Sam asked, rising his head to look up at Dean. His longish brown hair was mused from sleeping, and his brown eyes were squinting against the light.

Dean smiled a little too brightly. "Yup, up and at 'em Sammy."

Sam scowled. "I wish you'd stop calling me that."

Dean grinned and ruffled Sam's hair. "I'll stop calling you that when you give me a smile." He teased lightly.

Sam's scowl deepened and Dean laughed. "C'mon, you've got ten minutes to get ready." He walked out of the room and shut the door, allowing Sam to wake up properly.

Dean made his way into the kitchen. Their house was one of the nicer ones in the Seam, but that was mostly due to their mother, Mary. Like Katniss' mother, Mary had been born in the merchant area of District 12, which was apparent in her soft blonde hair and blue eyes. John, however, had come from a family in the Seam, and his whole family had been miners. Dean had been lucky enough to inherit Mary's light eyes, even if they were more green than hers, and lighter hair than both John and Sam. John and Sam could have almost passed for typical Seam residents, if it weren't for their brown eyes. Katniss, on the other hand, completely fit the Seam stereotype with her dark hair, grey eyes and tanned skin.

Sam emerged from his room five minutes later, dressed entirely in Dean's hand-me-down hunting gear. Sam was already starting to grow out of clothes that fitted Dean when he was only fifteen. Dean knew just by looking at him that Sam was going to be tall. "Right, you ready to go?" He asked, clapping his hands once.  
Sam nodded solemnly and followed Dean out the front door.

 

Once they were in the forest, Dean picked up their weapons from a hollowed out tree corpse. Katniss' bow and arrows were already gone, so Dean assumed she'd be hanging around the forest somewhere already. He passed Sam his miniature bow that Katniss' father had made for him while he was still alive. Dean's one had been made by Mr. Everdeen too. They were the best weapons he'd ever laid his hands on, Katniss' father had a real talent. Slinging a quiver over his shoulder and adding a knife or two to his belt, Dean set off, Sam close on his heels. The first stop was the river to check for any fish stuck in their traps. The net was empty and reset. Dean smiled, they could basically follow Katniss' footsteps to catch up with her.

He turned to Sam. "C'mon, she's turned this into a race." He took off into a run, following their usual schedule. He passed the strawberry patch, the few plants they'd planted, and found himself deeper in the forest. "Shit how early did she get here." He muttered to himself. He stopped, scanning the surroundings. Sam caught up behind him, and helped him look. A rustle in the leaves ahead drew Dean's attention, and he whipped out his bow and knocked an arrow in less than a second. He pulled the bowstring tight, and moved slowly towards the movement.

"Watch where you point that thing Winchester." Dean heard a familiar voice, and saw Katniss emerge from the bushes carrying a full burlap sack. She was a welcome sight. Her dark hair was plaited in it's usual braid, and slung over one of her shoulders. She was wearing a dark green shirt with one of Dean's older jackets pulled over her shoulders. By the way of height, Katniss wasn't much shorter than Dean, but she was small. Due to years of having barely enough to eat, Katniss' face was sharp and gaunt, and she was a lot smaller than both of the Winchester boys.

Dean lowered his bow and grinned. "Hey Everdeen, nice haul you've got there." 

Katniss nodded, not offering much in the way of a greeting. In that way, she was very similar to Sam. They both prefered silence. Dean had no doubt that if Katniss had been Sam's older sister, their house would have been a lot more quiet. "Hey smaller Winchester." She called, addressing Sam.

Sam nodded back to her, his unspoken greetings still a bit of a mystery to Dean.

"So what have you gotten so far?" Dean asked, peering curiously at the sack.

Katniss dropped it to the ground. "Well Sam's idea for the fishing net was actually really good. We got ten decent sized fish."

Dean's mouth dropped open. "You're kidding, right?"

Katniss shook her head. "Sam's actually is the main reason we're eating tonight. His snares and traps are pretty incredible. We got three rabbits from the ground snares and a wild dog from the lynching trap."

Dean looked back at Sam, who was kicking at the ground with the toe of his boot, a bit of a blush creeping up his cheeks. "Well done Sammy." The blush disappeared and was replaced with another scowl.

Dean looked back at Katniss. "Well let's see if our good luck continues." He said sarcastically.

Katniss frowned. "It's got nothing to do with luck Dean, and you know it." She turned away, and Dean knew any chance at conversation was over.

"Well how about you take Sammy and show him some good spots to make some more snares and I'll see if i can get anymore game. We'll meet back at the river in an hour or two." He offered.

Katniss just nodded, and Sam moved towards her as she took him back towards the other snares she hadn't reset. Dean sighed and moved off into the trees, his bow still loaded with an arrow. He loved Sammy, and Katniss was like a sister to him, but the two sometimes drove him crazy. They were both just so solemn and cold. The worst part was that it wasn't their fault. The world they all lived in had drowned every ounce of happiness from their hearts and left them bitter. Dean considered himself lucky that he had his twisted sense of humor to save him from falling into depression.

As he walked through the forest, he could feel his mind starting to clear, and his breathing slowing down. He could be at peace here. Here, he, Sammy and Katniss were safe.

**Castiel**

Castiel Novak lay in bed, unwilling to get up. He could already hear the rest of his family in the living room, preparing for the day, all speaking quietly about the past and the future, trying to convince themselves that they would be ok. They would probably start praying at some point. Castiel groaned and rolled his eyes. Light broke through the curtains as Castiel glaced around his large room. He had once shared it with his brother, Lucifer, but he had moved out to instead share with Gabriel, who was hardly ever home anyway. Now, the room seemed all too bare with Castiel's few possessions taking up less than a quarter of the room. All that decorated the empty room was a double bed, a simple wooden desk and bedside table, a full bookshelf, a chest of drawers and an alarm clock. Castiel missed sharing with Lucifer. The two were very similar in the way they kept to themselves and made sure everything was orderly and tidy. It also made the room seem less empty and cold. Throwing off the blankets, Castiel got up and walked into the kitchen, where his family were sitting around the table.

His father, Michael, sat at the head of the table, like usual. A crucifix hung on the wall behind him, carved by Micheal himself. Castiel had a feeling his family were the only ones in all of Panem who still hung on to an old religion, most had been abandoned after the Dark Days when the Capitol began to truly oppress the people. It made sense to Castiel too; what God would allow this world to exist? However, his family had strong held on to their Christianity roots, and they had been passed down through the family. They even had a tattered copy of the Bible that had somehow survived from the Old World. Michael read from it every Sunday. That was why Castiel and his siblings had such odd names. Raphael, Gabriel, Lucifer and Castiel. Four angels from the Bible. Gabriel always used to joke with Castiel, mocking him because Raphael, Gabriel and Lucifer were supposedly archangels, while Castiel was just a regular angel. They hadn't even spelt his name right either. In the Bible, the angel was called Cassiel. Naomi had wanted a girl so badly after three boys that she had kept the name, but Michael had wanted the name to be more masculine. Castiel had become used to Gabriel's jokes by now, and let his older brother tease him as much as he liked. Now, Raphael, Gabriel and Lucifer were all passed the age where they were at risk for the reaping. They could live in peace. However, Castiel couldn't. At seventeen, his name was entered in six times.

Naomi, Castiel's mother, approached him and pulled him into an embrace. She smelt like fresh coffee and cinnamon. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun, and like usual, not a hair was out of place. She wore a grey pantsuit, with a freshly ironed white blouse underneath. The Novak's were all about appearances. "We've been blessed so far. Let us hope that God spares you too Castiel."

Castiel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. In the eyes of his parents, Castiel was always falling. Always falling from their expectations, always falling from their idea of the perfect Christian son, always falling. He wasn't exactly sure what his parents wanted from him, but he knew he wasn't living up to it. He was too quiet, too reserved, too content with his situation. Unmotivated.

Naomi released him and gestured to the empty seat left for him at the table. Even though it was still early in the morning, everyone was dressed in their best reaping clothes, clothes that they only ever wore on a Sunday, when Michael read out their weekly lesson from the Bible. An uneasy silence fell over everyone at the table as Castiel sat. Gabriel, of course, was the first to break it. "Well Cas, how does it feel to be the last Novak represented in the reaping?"

Michael and Raphael both shot Gabriel disapproving looks, while Lucifer and Castiel tried to hide their smiles. That was usually how the family was split. Michael, Naomi and Raphael always as dark and serious as ever, while Gabriel, Lucifer and Castiel decided to face their fate with a small smile. Castiel risked a glance at Lucifer, who was smiling back at him, his eyes crinkling a little in the corners.

Michael spoke, deciding to ignore Gabriel's comment. "Castiel. Today must be a very difficult day for you. We would like you to know that we are all praying for you."

Castiel nodded. He could barely sit at the table anymore. Usually most of the attention was drawn to either Raphael, Michael or Gabriel. Castiel never had all of the attention focused on him. It was unnerving and he didn't like it. He and Lucifer were the most similar of the four siblings. They were both quiet, respectful, but had a lack of faith. Of course, their parents didn't know about the last part. Sometimes Castiel wondered if they had grown to be like their names, or if their names were given to them because of who they were. It never failed to amuse him that his brother had literally been named after the devil. Naomi had pointed out several times that Lucifer was God's favorite before he fell, whenever Gabriel brought up Lucifer's namesake.

Gabriel must have noticed Castiel's discomfort, because he quickly changed the subject. That was something Castiel could always count on when it came to Gabriel. He could sense when people were uncomfortable, and did his best to ease that discomfort. "I'm thinking of moving out." He said casually, like he was commenting on the weather.

Castiel widened his eyes, and a quick glance at Lucifer confirmed that his brother didn't know anything about this confession either. Apparently, neither did the rest of the family. Raphael and Naomi's jaw dropped in shock, but Michael just observed Gabriel carefully, like he was eyeing up a rabid dog, trying to decide whether to approach it or not.. "Why?" He asked cautiously.

Gabriel shrugged indifferently. "Well I figured that I'm already working down at the power plants, and they offer accommodation in the residential area down there, so I thought, why not?" He glanced over at his twin, Raphael, who just stared straight ahead.

After a few seconds of awkward silence, Michael nodded. "Well, if that's what you want Gabriel, then I can't see a problem. You're growing up." His voice was cold and even, not giving away any emotion.

Gabriel gave a small smile, which was a nice change from his sarcastic grins that usually played upon his face. "That's probably one of the biggest compliments you've given me." Before Michael could answer, Gabriel stood and stretched. "Well I promised Cas and Luci that I'd take them down to see the Milton's before the Reaping. Anna's been dying to catch up with Cas." He said, with a small wink at Castiel, who was returned it with a glare.

Michael sighed and opened his arms, deciding it was easier to just agree to Gabriel's terms rather than fight them. "Be my guest, be back here two hours before the Reaping." He warned.

"Of course." Gabriel smiled and grabbed Castiel and Lucifer by their shoulders. "Let's go kids."

 

It was no secret that the Novak family were rich. They were all merchants, living in the nicer part of the village. Micheal Novak worked with the mayor in the administration of District 5, and Naomi came from the family who owned an elite clothing store in the village. What was a secret though, was the fact that one of their eldest sons had decided to work for the power stations, the lowest of all the jobs in District 5. Gabriel could have been working in administration with his father and Raphael if he'd wanted to, but he didn't. He never talked about his decision, or explained it to anyone, he just did it. They tried to keep the secret the best that they could, but, of course, word got around. Five was a small district, and people loved to gossip. And now, Gabriel he was moving out. Castiel suspected that Raphael would move out soon too and start a family identical to his own, follow exactly in Michael's footsteps and be 'the good son'. Lucifer would probably meet a nice girl and settle down in the village and live a quiet peaceful life away from his family. Everyone of his siblings seemed to have a plan, but Castiel didn't.

He had no idea what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. He was pretty sure everyone he knew expected him to marry Anna Milton (Anna included), simply because her father was the mayor, and Michael was his right hand man. Castiel didn't mind Anna, she was kind and smart and very pretty, he just didn't love her. But Castiel knew that he would probably go along with whatever his parents planned because that was what Castiel did. He obeyed. He was the perfect little solider. Yet he was somehow still always falling from the expectations his parents set for him. Micheal wanted him to be forward thinking and filled with brilliant ideas, and Naomi wanted him to be happy and meet a nice girl, but Castiel wasn't either of these things. He felt guilty, because he should have been happy with his life, but he just wasn't.

Gabriel chatted casually the whole walk to Anna's house, about his job, about the people at work, about anything but the reaping that was glaring everyone in the face. Lucifer replied occasionally, but Castiel kept silent. One of the good things about Gabriel was that he could basically have a conversation with himself, only needing the occasional nod and agreement from the other person. When they finally arrived on Anna's doorstep, Castiel took a deep breath and faked a smile. He knew Anna would be just as worried about the Reaping as he was.

When she opened the door, Castiel was taken aback. Sure, he knew that everyone dressed up for the Reaping, but Anna looked stunning. Her usually straight red hair had been curled, and cascaded in ringlets down her back. She was wearing a white dress which was embellished with lace sleeves. Her lips were bright red and her hazel eyes shone brightly. Castiel gave her a genuine smile. "Hey Anna."

Anna grinned back, a little bit of red lipstick stuck on her teeth which Castiel ignored. "Hello Castiel." She glanced over at his brothers. "Hello Lucifer, hello Gabriel."

Gabriel grinned, mockingly giving her a short bow. "Oh, don't mind us Anna, we're only here to make sure things don't get too inappropriate." Lucifer held back a laugh behind his hand as Castiel glared at both of them.

Anna dropped her head, and her cheeks matched the color of her hair. "Oh." She smiled shyly, risking a look up at Castiel. "Well, come on inside, we're all . . ." She paused, reality crashing back down on her shoulders. "Well, we're all getting ready for this afternoon."

Anna invited them inside, closing the door behind them. She lead the three brothers into the kitchen. While the Novak's had a nice house, the Milton's house was a whole new level of luxury. Castiel had never fully explored the whole house, but the kitchen itself could have fitted an entire house down in the power plant area. Gabriel and Lucifer both took the seats at the counter while Anna poured them each a drink. Castiel allowed himself to forget about the Reaping for a few minutes and let himself be happy.

**Dean**

Dean helped Katniss carry the sack through the Seam, going behind all houses and ending up at The Hob. Dean let Sam go home to get ready so he and Katniss could do some trading. Of course, Sam hadn't said anything, he'd just replied with a serious nod. Dean sighed and walked in through the back of the old warehouse.

They were immediately assaulted by the different smells of wild game and whatever else the people of the Seam could pull together. Katniss' first stop was Greasy Sae , which didn't surprise Dean, there wasn't much else they could do with the wild dog caught in Sam's snare, and Sae could always be counted on to buy wild dog. Dean turned over the dog as discreetly as possible. Even though it was no secret that the meat in her soups was never actually beef, but people didn't exactly like to see the wild dog being transferred.

Greasy Sae handed Katniss a few coins and gave her and Dean a bowl of soup each. "And it's not for you two either, give it to those two little ones. They're skin and bone."

Dean gave her a small smile. "Right." Her kindness wasn't something Dean would ever get used to, it just wasn't something that was common around here. Everyone was in it to survive. It was almost like they were in the games every day of the year.

After they finished with their trades around the Hob, Katniss turned to Dean."The butcher takes squirrel, the baker takes rabbit." Katniss reminded Dean, as if he'd forgotten, and handed him the remaining game. "I'll go and get Sam, and bring him back to our house. Meet you there after you drop these off." She took the other bowl of soup from Dean and walked away, her dark braid nearly whipping Dean as she spun around.

Dean sighed and walked towards the village. If he'd had it his way, he wouldn't be doing this on Reaping day, he would have left it up to Katniss to deal with the customers in the village, but the look in her eyes had made Dean think better than to argue with her. He delivered the meat and collected the coins. The baker gave him a bag of cookies, which surprised Dean, but the baker claimed that they were for 'the two little ones'. Sam and Prim were a package deal, just like Dean and Katniss.

 

He arrived back at Katniss' house with an empty bag and stomach. He opened the front door and wiped his feet, as comfortable as if he was in his own home. Katniss' house was a bit smaller than their own, but it was cozier, more lived in. It had the influence of two parents, not only one absent parent. He dropped the bag on the kitchen bench and made his way into the living room. "Hello Mrs. Everdeen." He said quietly to Katniss' mother. He'd always been wary of her ever since she fell into depression and abandoned her children after the same explosion that killed John, killed her husband. Katniss claimed that she was 'better' now, but Dean was still cautious.

"Hello Dean." She replied calmly, giving him a small smile. Dean had no doubt that she knew exactly what he thought of her, but she was always kind and polite to him, so he tried his best to return it.

Dean smiled back and lent against the door frame. Sam sat on the couch, going through the various plants and berries they had collected and sorting them into piles. "Where's Katniss?" He asked casually.

Sam shrugged. "Her and Prim are getting changed."

Sam himself was wearing a button up shirt and a pair of black dress pants which, of course, used to belong to Dean. The pants were a little too short, and rode up around his ankles. Soon Sam would be fitting all of John's old clothes that Dean was wearing now. "You look good Sammy." Dean said, a bit of a lump stuck in his throat. He didn't want to go to the Reaping, he wanted to take Sam back to their house and tuck him back into bed. He wanted to protect Sam for the rest of his life, because that was the only thing Dean knew how to do, and he couldn't even do that right.

Mrs. Everdeen offered Dean a sympathetic smile. "His name's only in there twice Dean, he'll be fine."

It always amazed Dean at her uncanny ability to guess what people were thinking, not that Dean was being very subtle. "I know." He said quietly. "I know."

Katniss and Prim emerged from the small bedroom they shared a few moments later, Prim wearing a ruffled blouse and light blue skirt, and Katniss wearing one of her mother's old dresses. Dean sucked in a sharp breath, Prim was a year younger than Sam, this was her first reaping. He looked over at Katniss, who had the exact same expression that Dean had when he was looking at Sam.

Prim, however, didn't seem as nervous as Katniss or Dean, she just sat next to Sam and helped him sort out the plants they collected. Katniss walked over beside Dean and lent against his chest. Dean didn't feel shocked or surprised, he just responded by wrapping his arms around her without uttering another word. He lent his forehead against the top of her head, and she wrapped her arms around his waist.

They stood like that for a few seconds before Sam coughed loudly and Prim giggled. Katniss let go and walked over to Prim without looking back. That was the way things worked with her. She broke occasionally, but she never turned anything into something it wasn't. And what was between her and him, that was the same thing that was between him and Prim, or Katniss and Sam. They were all family, they all looked out for each other.

"It's time to go." Mrs. Everdeen said, quietly standing.

Katniss nodded and held her hand out for Prim to take it. Dean gave Sam a small smile, and Sam looked close to returning it.

 

Dean lead Sam to the boys section at the Reaping and helped him enter in his name and get his blood taken. Sam had a constant look of fear on his face as Dean helped him through the lines. Even though Sam had done it once before, he was still terrified. Dean remembered his first Reaping, and how afraid he'd been. Before he let Sam go to the section for thirteen year old boys, he knelt down in front of him.

"Hey, it'll be ok. We'll get home after this, we'll cook some of that fish, and then the Everdeen's will come over for dinner. Everything will be ok." He promised.

Sam nodded vigourously, and gave Dean a quick, impromtu hug.

Dean returned the embrace and took his own spot closer to the back with the seventeen year olds. Once he had finished helping Sam, he looked over, seeing if he could see Katniss or Prim. Neither were visible through the crowd of people.

Dean looked up at the stage. Only two people were seated there when there should have been three. Mayor Undersee and Effie Trinket spoke in hushed and worried voices. The Reaping was due to start, and Haymitch Abernathy still hadn't arrived. Eventually, Effie stood anyway and decided to start the Reaping. Just as she started to speak, Haymitch made a miraculous appearance, which ended with a miraculously drunk head dive off the stage.

Dean felt a small creep up on his lips. At least Haymitch was helping him to take his mind away fro the worry for Sam, Prim, Katniss and himself.

Eventually, Effie regained control of the crowd by making her way over to the girl's reaping ball. Her powder white wig was off center on her head, and she held it with one hand as she stalked over to the balls. She seemed to drag out choosing a slip of paper for as long as possible. When her manicured fingers finally grasped a piece of paper, Dean felt his breath catch in his throat.

"Primrose Everdeen."

Dean felt like someone had punched him in the stomach, he desperately scanned the girl's area for Prim and Katniss. He spotted Prim first, moving nervously towards the stage. She was moving slowly and stilted, glancing around like there had been some kind of mistake.

"Prim?" Dean heard Katniss before he saw her. Her voice sounded broken and disbelieving. "PRIM!" Her voice turned to a scream as she forced her way through the crowd to reach her sister. "PRIM!"

Dean reacted a few seconds after the Peacekeepers who were moving to contain Katniss, who was running towards Prim. 

"I volunteer!" Katniss screamed, her voice lost to the tears that were spilling down her cheeks. "Please, I volunteer as a tribute!" She enclosed a crying Prim in her arms as the Peacekeepers surrounded her.

Effie and Mayor Undersee both seemed thoroughly shaken by Katniss' outburst, and Effie tried to regain control for a second time. "I do believe we have a volunteer!" She announced proudly.

Dean walked towards Prim as she tried to pull Katniss to stop her from moving towards the stage. He picked her up and gave Katniss' hand a quick squeeze as she was escorted up to the stage. The Peacekeepers didn't bat an eyelid and Dean taking Prim away from the chaos.

"Katniss! NO!" Prim screamed, beating Dean's head with her fists, trying to get him to put her down, but he refused, handing her over to Mrs. Everdeen at the back of the crowd while Effie addressed Katniss. He barely made it back to his spot in the boy's section before Effie moved over to read out the next name.

"Dean Winchester."

**Castiel**

Castiel took his place in the boy's section in the village square, in front of the Justice Building. His palms were sweating, and he was dressed in his best clothes. His breath was caught in his chest, and he could feel one of his signature anxiety attacks coming on. He tried to calm himself by taking deep breaths.  _'Your family's standing right behind you. You're name's only in there six times. You'll be fine. Stop being stupid'_. The last thought came to him in Raphael's voice, which replaced his fear with anger. "Stop being stupid" He muttered to himself, too low for anyone around him to hear. He clenched and unclenched his fists, almost missing the girl's name being read out.

"Joanna Harvelle."

Castiel glanced up to see a small, but hardy, blonde girl walking up to the stage, her eyes hard and her jaw set. Castiel admired her for that, admired her for that determination not to break down like so many others do, and have done. But she was so  _young_. She couldn't have been older than twelve. This would have been her first Reaping. And she was facing it with such courage and conviction, that Castiel almost wanted to appuad her.

His breif time of feeling admiration for the female tribute ended when the it was the boy's turn.

"Castiel Novak."

Oddly enough, at that moment, Castiel didn't feel anything. He felt numb, completely and utterly numb. There was no lack of breath, no punch to the stomach, just . . . nothing. He felt his legs moving of their own accord, walking towards the stage, his face a mask of no emotion. That was the worst part. He couldn't  _feel_ anything. It would have scared him if he'd known how to make himself feel something. But he didn't feel anything. _No, this can't be right. Only six times, right? There are people with there name in there twenty times, how are you the one chosen? You're going to die. You know that right?_  He blinked, and found himself on the stage, standing next to Joanna Harvelle. She tried to offer him a small smile, but Castiel still didn't quite believe his situation.

He could see well from the stage, well enough to see his family standing in a tight group at the end of the gathered crowd. People were staring at them too, because the Novak's were famous enough in District 5 for people to recognise them. It was strange that such an elite family could possibly have a child in the Games, yet there Castiel stood. Michael was holding Naomi as she cried into his chest, and Raphael was rubbing his mother's back sympathetically. None of the three were even looking Castiel's way. Lucifer stood with his arms by his side, his jaw dropped in shock, like he wasn't quite convinced that it was real. Castiel locked eyes with him, wishing he could say something to his brother, offer some words of comfort, or at least dismiss the situation. 

But Gabriel stood slightly apart from the rest, his arms folded across his chest. Castiel could see the pride in Gabriel's eyes, the same kind of admiration Castiel had felt for Joanna when she hadn't shown emotion. Gabriel's lips lifted a little when he caught Castiel's gaze; and despite himself, Castiel smiled back.


	2. Chapter 2

**Dean**

  
Dean sat with his face in his hands.  _'You've failed again Dean'_. John's voice sounded in his head.  _'You failed again. Who's gonna look after Sammy now?'_. Dean's breath came heavily as he ran his fingers through his hair, his fingers turning to fists.  _'You're useless Dean. Useless.'_ "Stop."  _'You have to look after Sammy'_. Dean could feel the tears welling up behind his eyes, but he couldn't cry, not here, not now, with cameras trained outside and Sam coming to visit him any minute now. He let out a long and broken breath and swallowed back the lump in his throat. 

He'd screwed up big time. He thought he had it all sorted, Katniss would take care of Sam if something happened to Dean, and Dean would take care of Prim if something happened to Katniss. That had been the plan, the big intelligent plan. What Dean hadn't factored into the equation was what would happen if he and Katniss were both comprimised. Sam was thirteen, he couldn't take care of himself, let alone Prim and Mrs. Everdeen as well. He was just a kid. Dean could feel the guilt tearing him up, and he knew that Katniss would be feeling the same thing. He wished that he'd taken Sam with him today at the Hob, and taught him how to bargain with the traders. None of them would go easy on Sam, just because he was a kid. If anything, they would take advantage of him just for that reason. It was Dean's job to take care of Sam. That was his life's purpose. John had made that much clear before he died.

Sam was the first one to come and visit him in the waiting room. Dean pulled him into a tight hug and didn't let go. "You gotta take care of yourself Sammy, because I can't anymore. You gotta make as many snares as you can, and you gotta learn to trade at the Hob." He rambled off the list he'd been preparing in his head.

Sam nodded against his chest, refusing to look up, and Dean knew he was crying.

"You gotta go and live with Prim and Mrs. Everdeen. It's gonna be tough, but you've got to provide for them too. You've gotta keep going to school, get a job. You've got to take my bow and use it, yours is getting too small for you. Never take any extra tessarae ok? It's not worth it. Trust me." Dean swallowed back the lump in his throat, his voice thick with emotion.

Sam pulled away and looked Dean in the eye. "Stop talking like that, like you're not coming back." Sam glared at Dean, staring right into his pale green eyes. "You've gotta come back Dean. Promise."

Dean couldn't talk, his voice was stuck in his throat. "Sammy, I-" How could he explain to his younger brother what winning meant. It meant killing people. Innocent people. Children.

"Promise me Dean." Sam said, not letting Dean look away. "Promise."

Dean's gaze softened. "Ok Sammy, I promise. I'll try as hard as I can to come back." He pulled Sam in for another hug. "Just please Sammy, if I don't, please look after yourself. Look after Prim, because you know that Katniss would have looked after you if she could've."

Sam nodded again. "I know Dean." A moment of silence passed as Dean hugged Sam as tight as he could, a silent goodbye to his brother. "Dean?" Sam said quietly.

"Yeah Sammy?"

"I actually don't hate it when you call me that. It reminds me of Dad."

Dean choked back a sob that was threatening to break free. "I love you Sammy."

Sam hugged Dean tighter. "I love you too Dean. Don't forget your promise."

They stayed like that until a Peacekeeper came to escort Sam out. Sam left without a word, his head dropped and his posture slumped. Sam now had no one. No parents, and no older brother. Dean wanted to punch something.

 

The next visitors Dean got were just as heartbreaking. Prim threw herself into Dean's arms like Sam did, and she sobbed loudly. Dean hugged her back, rocking her slightly like he used to do when Sam was younger and couldn't sleep. "Hey, it's gonna be ok." He said quietly as she cried.

"No it's not." She managed through her tears. "I can't have you and Katniss anymore." She held on around Dean's neck, her tears soaking into his shirt. "Only one comes out, right?"

Dean was shocked by her sentence, and suddenly the haunting image of him and Katniss in a final showdown chilled him to the core. "Katniss will be fine Prim, I'll look out for her." He promised. "But you've got to promise me something."

Prim pulled away, her blue eyes now bloodshot from crying. "What?" She asked.

"You gotta take care of Sammy." He said, with a glance over at Prim's mother, who nodded silently. "Show him how to cook, or look after your goat, or anything. You guys can have our house, it's bigger and that way you can be closer to the village. Greasy Sae will take care of you two to a certain degree. If you're ever starving, go to her, she'll give you a bowl of soup on the house with some coins if Sammy gives her, I don't know, maybe a wild dog. Prim, District 12 loves you, and they won't let you go hungry." He reassured her confindently.

Prim nodded and put on a brave face. "Ok Dean."

Mrs. Everdeen stood beside him and touched his shoulder gently. "Thank you Dean, we'll look after Sam, don't worry. If Katniss . . ." She broke off, her eyes glassing over for a second. "If Katniss doesn't make it, then you  _need_ to Dean, you have to."

Dean nodded. "I'll try, I promise."

Mrs. Everdeen gave a small smile, and kissed Dean on the forehead. "I know that you have your doubts about me Dean, and I know I haven't always been a great mother, but I'm better now. I promise you that I'll keep your brother safe."

Dean couldn't do more than nod. Again, he was shocked by how well she could read people's minds.

 

Dean didn't expect anyone else to visit him after the Everdeens left, but to his surprise, Greasy Sae showed up. She didn't stay for long, however, she just gave Dean a pat on the shoulder and looked him in the eye. "Everyone knows that you and that bloody girl are a package deal, just like your younger ones. You two have been good to me, so I'll be good to them." She paused for a second. "The Hob's going to be very quiet without you two around together." She said quietly.

Dean just nodded. "Thanks, for looking out for Sammy."

Greasy Sae gave him an almost toothless smile. "He'll be fine with me."

**Castiel**

Castiel expected some kind of feeling to hit him when he was escorted to the waiting area, but none came. He just sat there, numb to his surroundings. He ran his fingers along the material covering the chair and frowned. He knew that what he was doing wasn't normal, he knew that a more appropriate reaction would be to scream and cry, but he just didn't feel like doing that. Maybe when he saw his family, that would change.

When his family finally did enter, the dynamics of the room changed dramatically. Gabriel and Lucifer sat either side of him, silently offering their support. Naomi sat opposite him, hugging him and crying. Michael and Raphael stood behind Naomi, offering their silent support to her. That was a perfect illustration of how their family worked, and where people's loyalties lay. 

Naomi held Castiel for a long time, just crying. Michael stared at him, frowning, trying to come up with some kind of helpful advice. "Castiel, all I can say is something you probably don't want to hear right now." He paused for a second, waiting for some kind of conformation. When none came he sighed and continued. "Don't kill anyone Castiel, let God decide your fate. Stay pure."

Finally, the floodgates snapped, and Castiel felt something. His whole body began to shake violently. He couldn't tell whether he was feeling anger, sadness or terror. "Stay pure?" Castiel shook his head. "Stay pure? Do you want me to die?" He asked, his hands curling into fists. A somewhat manic laugh of disbelief bubbled from his lips.

Michael looked taken aback, and Naomi pulled away from Castiel. "Castiel, I'm only being realistic." Michael tried to defend himself.

Gabriel shot his father a dangerous glare, warning him to back off. Obviously, Michael didn't understand.

"I would rather my son died pure then died a sinner. Murder is still murder Castiel."

Castiel's eyes widened, not quite believing what he was hearing. He wanted to scream at his father and punch him, but he couldn't quite find the will. And he didn't really feel that he would achieve anything either. He didn't really want to change his father's views, he just wanted for him to realise what he was actually saying. 

Lucifer gripped Castiel's arm lightly, offering him some kind of support while Gabriel cleared his throat. "Father, with all due respect." He paused. "Back off."

Michael blinked in surprise at Gabriel's anger. "Gabriel, how dare you speak to me like that." His surprise was quickly replaced by anger.

Gabriel laughed bitterly. "You just told your son that you have no faith in him returning, and you'd rather him dead and pure than alive and a sinner. Father, how dare  _you_ talk to Castiel like that."

An uncomfortable silence fell in the room. Raphael and Micheal had their fists clenched, while Gabriel and Lucifer braced themselves in front of Castiel. It was unnerving and Castiel could feel the electricity in the air. If someone were to light a match, the room would explode.

Before anyone could throw the first punch, Peacekeepers came to escort them out. Raphael, Michael and Naomi left without a fuss, but Lucifer and Gabriel hung behind for as long as possible.

"Cas, you can do it ok? Just ignore Dad, he doesn't know what he's talking about." Lucifer said as he was walking away.

Gabriel gripped Castiel by the shoulders. "Just come home Cas. We need you to hold this family together. And I'm pretty sure Anna would be pretty upset if you didn't come back." He added with a typical Gabriel smirk, just before the Peackeepers pulled him away.

Castiel was still shaking even after his whole family left the room, an anxiety attack still threatening to rise. He held his hand in front of him and watched them as they trembled.  _'Pull yourself together_.'

 

The door opened again, and Castiel barely had time to stand before Anna came hurtling in and gripped him into a bone crushing hug. "Oh Castiel, I can't believe it! This is awful, I just-" She broke off into uncontrollable sobs and Castiel just awkwardly patted her back, unsure of how to react. He was surprised at how distraught Anna was. He didn't expect her to care so much. While it was unexpected, it wasn't unwelcome. It was kind and sweet.

"Castiel, you have to win, you have to come back. Please." Anna held his face, forcing him to look her in the eye. Even though her face was streaked with tears, and her eyes were red, she still had a kind of quiet beauty around her.

Castiel swallowed, frowning. "Ok Anna." He didn't really understand why she was so upset, as far as he'd known, he and Anna were friends, but only because of their parents.

But when Anna turned her head and pressed her lips to his, Castiel seriously reconsidered that judgement. Anna cupped his face with her hands, apparently not noticing Castiel's shock. Her lips were soft and warm, and before he really realised what he was doing, Castiel was resting his hands on Anna's waist lightly, and he was kissing her back. He broke off the kiss, staring at Anna, who had a blush creeping up on her cheeks.

"I'm sorry." She murmured, looking away from him. She looked even more beautiful when she was flushed, Castiel noted to himself casually. She gripped her dress lightly, her hands working in and out of fists. "I just had to do that at least once." She admitted, stealing another nervous look at Castiel.

Castiel could quite get the frown of confusion off his face. "Anna, you're really nice and smart and . . . prettty, it's just, I thought that-" He fumbled for words, trying to ask her why she had kissed him.

"No, it's ok, I get it Castiel, really." Anna cut him off. "I just wanted to say goodbye." Her voice sounded slightly dejected, and Castiel found himself holding her hands gently.

"I didn't mean that, I was just wondering . . . why?" Castiel managed, searching Anna's face for emotion.

Anna smiled sadly. "You really don't see it do you?" She brushed the back of her fingers against Castiel's cheek soothingly. Giving his hand a quick squeeze, Anna walked out of the room before the Peacekeepers came to collect her. Castiel sat himself back down on the couch, frowning. Anna Milton. Suddenly, he finally felt the full effects of the Reaping. His entire life had been snatched away from him. Finally, he could see a future where he married Anna Milton, grew up, got a job, and had children of his own. That could have been his life. Now that was snatched away from him and snuffed out as easily as a candle. All due to a small slip of paper with the name _Castiel Novak_ on it in careful handwriting. 

**Dean**

Dean finally saw Katniss again as they were loaded into the train. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into another hug, but that would have to wait until they were both away from the eyes of the cameras, who would turn everything into something it wasn't. Right now, Dean was tired and worn, and he just wanted to collapse and sleep for about twenty years, but he knew that it wouldn't be an option. They will be expected to attend dinner on the train, and then probably watch the re-caps of the Reaping. After the train doors closed behind them, Katniss moved straight towards Dean, and he wrapped his arms around her for the second time today.

They didn't say anything, they just enjoyed the warmth each other brought, and the reassurance of family. 

Katniss was the first to break the silence. "If we both die, so do Prim and Sam." It wasn't a question, it was a stone cold statement. Katniss didn't sugarcoat it, or try to look on the bright side, she stated the facts.

Dean nodded. "I know." He didn't bother with trying to reassure her, he couldn't lie to Katniss. He could lie to Prim and Sam and Mrs. Everdeen, but lying to Katniss was off limits, it was an insult to her intelligence.

"So one of us has to win it."

"I know." Dean said again.

They didn't address the elephant in the room though, neither of them wanted to discuss the possibility of the both of them surviving to the end, then having to choose between the both of them who would go home.

"It's going to be hard." Katniss spoke quietly.

"It's just like hunting animals." Dean said, hoping that if he said it, he could believe it.

"Is it?" Katniss asked.

Dean shrugged. "Not really."

Dean let go of Katniss and looked at her. She seemed small and broken. "Katniss, we can do this. We have to do this." He held her chin up, looking her in the eyes. "Think about Prim."

Katniss took a deep breath and nodded. "I know Dean."

They made their way to the dining cart, close by each other's side. Dinner was already being served as they entered. Effie was sitting by herself at the dining table, and Haymitch was nowhere to be seen after the drunk head dive off the stage. Katniss and Dean both took a seat, and their eyes nearly dropped out of their heads.

"Is all this, for  _us_?" Dean asked, disbelieving at the amount of food set up on the table for them.

Effie grinned like she had something to be proud of. "Oh yes, the Capitol makes sure to cater to it's guests."

Katniss almost choked on her drink when Effie said 'guests'. Dean tried to hide his smile, even though he knew it was completely inappropriate to be smiling at this point. He'd never seen so much food in his life. Even when Mary and John were alive, and they actually had a stable income coming in to the family, they still didn't get half the food that was set on the table. 

As they sat and ate, the conversation turned into awkward silence, as Effie tried to impress Dean and Katniss with facts about the Capitol. "And this train travels at over 250 miles per hour!" She said excitedly. "I'm sure you're not used to  _that_ kind of travel in District 12."

Dean wanted to point out the fact that they didn't need that kind of travel in District 12, because District 12 wasn't even 250 miles long, but he knew that it would be pointless to even try to educate Effie on what life was like in the districts. He glanced over at Katniss, who was somewhat glaring at Effie over the table, appauled by her ignorance. Dean sighed and gave Katniss a smile kick under the table, to which she responded with a harder kick, and a daggered stare at him.

"So Effie, would we be able to watch a recap of the other district's reapings?" Dean asked once he'd finished his dinner.

Effie clapped her hands. "Yes, wonderful idea." She simply stood and wandered off to the next room, leaving her dishes and untouched food behind her.

Katniss turned to look at Dean, shock on her face. "Is this seriously how they live? We're not even at the Capitol yet, and I already feel sick."

Dean shrugged. "I guess life must be different when you've had things handed to you your whole life."

Katniss nodded and helped Dean stack the dishes on the table, putting all the leftover food on one plate. A small smile crept over her face. "Leftovers, actual leftovers." She sighed. "I wish we could send it back to Sam and Prim."

Dean looked over at the plate which was filled with various kinds of meat, vegetables, bread rolls and sauces. "I know." He said quietly. He could just imagine Sam and Prim's eyes widening when they saw the food, disbelieving that it was actually for them. "Well I hear that victors become dirty rich after winning the games, so maybe Sam and Prim will get to try something like this." He chose his words carefully, watching Katniss' face for her reaction.

She just nodded seriously, and, without uttering another word, walked towards the cart that Effie had gone to, leaving Dean by himself.

**Castiel**

Castiel's head was still reeling once he was escorted out of the waiting room and into the train. He had started shaking again, his bouts of anxiety broken by the flashes of cameras. As he entered the train, and the doors closed behind him, he sunk to his knees, finally letting go. His whole body shuddered, and he couldn't breathe. His throat was dry and he felt oddly too hot and too cold at the same time. His breath was coming in small gasps and his head was pounding. Castiel had had panic attacks before, but never like this. And whenever he did have one of his 'episodes', Gabriel or Lucifer were always there to help him.

"Hey, are you ok?"

Castiel looked up to see Joanna Harvelle leaning down next to him, her hand on his shoulder. She had warm brown eyes, which was kind of comforting in an odd way.  _'Pull yourself together'_ Castiel thought to himself while Joanna lent over him.

She shook him slightly. "Hey, Castiel? Do you want me to call someone?"

Castiel managed to shake his head. Who was she going to call anyway?

"Can you stand?" Joanna asked, bracing herself in case he needed to lean on her.

Castiel let out his breath slowly, remembering what Gabriel would do if he started to panic.   
 _"Castiel, remember that time we went down to the creek at the back of the Milton's house, and we found that old rope swing? Do you remember when we were all waiting for Raphael, because he said that it was too dangerous for us to do it without a responsible adult present, but me and Lucifer dared you to do it anyway. Do you remember that? And then Raphael came back, and we thought he was going to be really angry, like usual, but for once, he just smiled and actually laughed and said 'Is that the highest you can go?' and we just spent the rest of the day trying to beat each other and Raphael was actually happy, and we were all happy."_  
Castiel didn't know why that memory calmed him, but somehow it did. It was a good memory, one of the few ones Gabriel and Lucifer had memorised for whenever Castiel fell into one of his panic attacks. He felt his breath coming easier, and his heartbeat slowing down. He stood, half leaning against Joanna as she lifted him up. He was grateful for her help.

"Sorry." He murmured quietly as she let him go.

Joanna frowned. "Is that a common thing?" She asked, her eyebrows creased.

Castiel shrugged. "Only when I panic."

Joanna smirked, which Castiel thought suited her. "Well, looks like you may be having a few more panic attacks within the next few days."

Castiel smiled shyly. He knew that he shouldn't have been smiling right now, but Joanna was infectious. "I guess I'll have to get myself under control."

Joanna smiled warmly. "You did a pretty good job of pulling yourself together back there. Oh by the way," She moved a bit closer to him, giving him a small pat on the cheek. "You've got a bit of lipstick on." She walked off, smiling to herself as Castiel desperately tried to wipe of the remainder of Anna's lipstick that was stuck on his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Dean**

The heat was the first thing Dean noticed. Then it was the smoke, then it was the flames. He couldn't breathe, the smoke was suffocating him. "Sammy!" He screamed, his voice breaking off into uncontrollable coughs. He needed to find his brother, if he was still alive. He stumbled out of bed and rushed down the hallway, which was alive with flames. He could hear his father coming towards him, Sam in his arms. John set Sam down on his feet so he could run.

"Take your brother outside as fast as you can, don't look back. Go Dean, go!"

Dean grabbed Sam's hand, and turned to run away . . . just as the roof collapsed above their heads.

Dean awoke, gasping. "Sammy." He murmured, the aftershocks of his dream still running through his mind. He ran a hand through his hair and slumped back down onto the soft bed. He'd never had a more comfortable sleep in his life - nightmares aside. The mattresses they had at home were lumpy, rough and uncomfortable. But the nightmare worried him. He hadn't had any of those since John died. It was like when his father had died, all the pressure and fear he put on Dean died along with him, buried six feet deep in a graveyard in District 12, next to his mother.

Dean rolled over and checked the digital alarm clock sitting on the bedside table.

3:23 AM

He sighed and rolled back onto his side. There was no way he was going to get any more sleep, not after that nightmare, but he didn't really want to wander the train this early in the morning. He decided to cast his thoughts to the tributes he'd seen at the reapings. As to be expected, the tributes from District 1 were classically beautiful and looked like they were careers. Neither of the names had really stuck with Dean. District 2, however, had made a bit more of an impression on him. Again, both of the tributes were careers who had volunteered to take the place of the two other tributes. The girl was a small, but deadly looking brunette named Ruby. Dean instantly disliked her from the curl of her lips when she smiled cruelly at the cameras, to the way she stood with her hands on her hips and her head cocked slightly to the side. But Dean was smart enough to know that she would be dangerous. 

The male tribute didn't make as much of an impact on Dean as Ruby did, but he was still worried about the cocky attitudes they both seemed to master. Crowley and Ruby. Dean had already decided that those two needed to be taken out as quickly as possible.

District 3 and 4 didn't make much of an impact, but the girl from District 5 did. She seemed to be a little bit older, but other than that, she reminded Dean of Prim with her small frame and long blonde hair. He knew that Katniss had noticed it too, because when Joanna Harvelle came up on the screen, Katniss had taken a sharp breath and looked away from the screen. When the boy from District 5 was called, Effie sighed dramatically. "Oh, his father works in administration of District 5, very close personal friend of the Mayor." She said, nodding to herself. Dean had just rolled his eyes at Effie, of course she would know all the people involved with the Capitol.

None of the other districts made an impression until the hulking male tribute from District 11 stepped forward. Uriel. Dean was worried about him too. Crowley, Ruby, Joanna, Uriel. The four tributes that had made an impression on Dean. He wasn't looking forward to the opening ceremony, when he would be in the same area as 23 people who would be dead within the month.

Dean groaned and got out of his bed, deciding that anything would be better than contemplating the various ways that he could die in the next few weeks. He shuffled out into the dining cart, hoping for a glass of water. He glanced out the window, stretches of darkness flying past so quickly, Dean couldn't identify anything. He looked away from the glass as his own reflection came into focus. He couldn't bear to look at the sunken eyes and pale skin that reminded him so much of Sam. He wondered if Sam was getting any sleep tonight. He could only hope that he'd at least managed to store enough food to last them a week, until the traps were filled again and they could last another week. But that was how their life was going to be now. Week by week, the food store becoming smaller and smaller each time until, finally, there was none left.

Dean pushed those thoughts out of his mind, refusing to acknowledge the idea that Sam may die before he got home . . .  _if_   he got home.

**Castiel**

Castiel awoke the next morning as the train arrived at the Capitol. He had been so tired last night that he'd collapsed on his bed full clothed, so his black dress pants and white button up was rumpled and creased. He pushed himself up out of bed, and walked towards the dining cart, eager to catch a glimpse of the Capitol. When he entered the other cart, he saw that Joanna was already awake and ready, dressed in one of the outfits that had been provided for them in their rooms. She was wearing a soft blue dress which made her look even younger than she already did. Her light blonde hair was still slightly wavy from the braid that she must have undone this morning. 

Suddenly, Castiel was very aware of his bedraggled appearance, which caused him to blush when he felt Joanna assessing him. 

"Rough night?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, a small smirk playing on her lips.

Castiel shrugged with his own subtle smile forming. "Yeah, I guess." He tried to smooth down his shirt and fix his tie, but it did nothing to help the 'homeless' look he had.  
Joanna's smile turned into a grin. "Don't worry, we'll be all fixed up by our stylists soon enough." 

Castiel wasn't sure, but he swore that he could see a flicker of excitement pass through Joanna's eyes. Of course, she had never had much of a reason to feel beautiful, coming from an area of poverty in District 5. She was probably just trying to find some kind of positivity about her situation. Again, he was reminded just how young and innocent she was. Even though she may have only been two years younger than himself, she must have been sheltered a lot better than Castiel was. Having being exposed to it his entire life, Castiel knew just how corrupt and disgusting their whole idea of 'government' was. Gabriel and Lucifer had never hidden anything from Castiel, they had always told him exactly what was going on, and what their father did. They taught him about Rebellion, and the Dark Days. They taught him about the Capitol, and what it was like for the people there. Often, when Michael wasn't home, Gabriel would sneak into his study and steal whatever he could to learn about the secrets held by the authority figures of the districts. Once, Gabriel had been stupid enough to steal a few documents from the Milton's house. Obviously some kind of God had been on Gabriel's side, because no one had suspected him, and he, Lucifer and Castiel had been reading over them for days on end, trying to work out what they meant, but they seemed to be in some kind of code. The only thing that they could draw from the documents was 'District 13', which had peaked Gabriel's interest, but Lucifer refused to let him continue to steal things from the Milton's, afraid of what could follow. While Castiel had agreed with Lucifer originally, he later found his curiosity reawakened.

"Castiel?" Joanna's voice pulled him back into reality, and it was only then that Castiel realised that his hands were starting to shake again.

"Are you having another attack?" She asked, moving from her chair to Castiel's side.

He shook his head. "No, I'm fine. I-" He paused frowning. "I'm fine, and that's the odd part."

Joanna frowned, not convinced. "Are you sure Cas?"

Castiel blinked in shock, the use of Lucifer and Gabriel's nickname surprising him. It didn't bother him, in fact, he preferred to be called Cas, but he just wasn't expecting it. It was comforting, somehow.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He said quietly, and the shaking slowed to a stop.

Joanna stepped back. "What stops it?" She asked, her eyes drilling holes into Castiel's face as she assessed him.

Castiel shrugged, trying to ignore her judging stare. "Mostly memories. Good memories, bad memories. Anything to take me away from the moment." He admitted, surprised at how easy it was to tell Joanna the truth.

Joanna nodded. "Well what one pulls you out the fastest?" She asked, desperately trying to help him.

Castiel sighed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Ah, I don't know. Usually anything with Gabriel or Lucifer?" 

Joanna raised an eyebrow, obviously surprised. "Brothers? Friends?" She asked.

"Brothers." Castiel confirmed, slightly surprised that Joanna didn't recognise the names of the two Novak boys.

Joanna nodded. "So if I tell you to remember Gabriel and Lucifer, it'll help?" She looked him straight in the eyes, and Castiel frowned.

"Why are you helping me?" He asked. It would be easier for her to just leave him, let him have his panic attacks. It meant one less person trying to kill her. But here she was, helping him to fight it.

Joanna assessed him in silence for a long time before speaking. "I don't know." She answered truthfully, her brown eyes never leaving his blue ones. "Maybe it's because you seem to be a good person." 

Castiel swallowed. He wasn't sure if he should thank her or not. He could already feel himself becoming fond of Joanna, like she was a younger sister. Forming emotional attachments in the games were a huge liability, Castiel knew that, but Joanna was so kind and innocent. It wasn't fair. He was starting to shake again, but this time it wasn't his anxiety, it was anger. "This isn't right." He murmured under his breath, low enough that Joanna couldn't hear.

She frowned. "Cas, you're shaking again." 

Castiel nodded. "I know, but don't worry, it's not that." He reassured her quietly. Anger effected Castiel differently than it effected most people. Instead of flying into a rage, Castiel turned deadly quiet. He was very good at hiding his emotions, but when he was angry, he just seemed extremely tired. Until someone provoked him. 

Joanna still looked concerned, but she moved away, removing her hand from his shoulder. While her appearance made her seem a lot younger, Joanna was much more intelligent than Castiel had ever been at twelve.

And she was probably going to die.

**Dean**

Dean hated the Capitol. He hated their stupid fashions. He hated their stupid voices and he hated their stupid games. 

As soon as they had arrived in the Capitol, Dean and Katniss had both been ushered out of the public eye and into the styling rooms. After about thirty minutes of Dean stubbornly protesting for any of the oddly dressed 'stylists' to lay a finger on him, they finally won him over with the promise of no makeup.

Now, he stood wearing a costume almost identical to Katniss' in design. Shiny black unitard (which was another struggle to get Dean into), lace up boots and a long red, orange and yellow cape that trailed behind him. He felt like some kind of delicacy, like all the food on the train. Hours to prepare, only to be devoured. It was an unpleasant thought.

The only consoltation to the whole situation was the ability to be near Katniss again. While Dean was convinced that there was nothing romantic between them, she was the only thing he could hold on to from District 12, and she was the closest thing he and Sam had to family.

He hadn't seen much of Haymitch since the Reaping, but it seemed like finally he had decided to show up, his breath reaking of alcohol. He observed Dean and Katniss quietly, like he was trying to decide the best way to present them together. Effie stood behind them, a bit out of place.

Finally, Haymitch let out a sigh. "Well let's just hope that the costumes are enough." He said. "Listen, you two are probably some of the best shots I've ever had in my time as a mentor." Something glinted in Haymitch's eyes, like his small speech held some kind of deeper meaning. "Please, try not to die."

Dean resisted the overwhelming urge to roll his eyes. So far, Haymitch had been useless and difficult. If he and Katniss were going to survive the games, they would be doing it on their own terms, not Haymitch's.

Katniss seemed nervous, but excited. Dean could see it in the way her bright eyes hid under a frown of worry. 

"It's synthetic fire." Katniss' stylist, Cinna, reassured them. "Just something Portia and I came up with." 

Dean raised an eyebrow, not entirely convinced, but he didn't want to complain even further.  _'They know what they're doing Dean.'_  He tried -and failed- to reassure himself. The stylists probably didn't really care if they got burnt, the Capitol would throw them in the arena anyway, why not risk their physical health for the entertainment of the audience? It was only delying the inevitible. 

The chariot he and Kaniss would be riding in was pulled by coal black horses, which Dean guessed was a pretty obvious metaphor. As they stood on the chariot, Dean noticed Katniss shaking slightly. Before he had the chance to question her, Cinna arrived carrying what looked like a flame thrower. Dean's immediate response was to back off and not let the stylist touch him, but Katniss gripped his arm and held him steady. 

"Trust him." She murmured under her breath so only Dean could hear. 

Trusting someone from the Capitol was the last thing Dean wanted to do, but he knew that he could trust Katniss. That was the only reason he allowed Cinna to light his cape on fire. 

As the other tributes filed out, Dean heard the roars of the crowd cheering on their favourite district. He felt sick. They were children, and the crowd were desperate for them to kill each other.

As District 12's chariot left, Katniss closed her hand around Dean's, looking for some kind of comfort. Dean returned it gladly, grateful for someone to hold on to. Once they came in to view of the crowd, it was all over. All attention focused on them and their flaming costumes. Screams and cheers erupted, even louder than before. Dean looked over to see Katniss' eyes wide with shock as everyone stared at them. He was amazed too, by the sheer amount of people who were watching them. He'd always known that the Capitol was 'big', but this brought an entirely new meaning to the word. The amount of people gathered here had to be at least twice the population of District 12 alone.  
He watched Katniss with her eyes wide as she nervously began to wave at the crowd, who went crazy in response. Since Dean was now reassured that they weren't going to be burnt alive, he let himself relax a little. Everyone would remember them, the tributes from District 12. A momentary flare of hope arose in Dean's chest.

 _'Maybe, just maybe, I can do this_ _.'_   He thought to himself, allowing himself to imagine the possibilities. His thought were cas back to Haymitch confessing that they were the best shot he had seen in a while.

_'Maybe.'_


	4. Chapter 4

**Castiel**

Castiel had been eight the first time he could remember. He was sitting outside with Lucifer. Gabriel and Raphael were inside the house screaming at each other in rage, and Lucifer had silently taken Castiel's hand and lead him outside, sitting him on the porch of their house. They spent an hour out there, Lucifer silently holding Castiel's hands as Castiel cried. Naomi had gone with Michael for an important district meeting, and left Raphael in charge for a day. Castiel wasn't exactly sure what Raphael and Gabriel's fight had started over, all he knew was that neither of his brothers would drop it.

All of a sudden, Castiel felt like he couldn't deal with it. He'd started shaking, his breath catching in his throat. The anxiety started in his stomach, eating away at him. As much as he was scared of Raphael, Gabriel scared him more. Gabriel was just too intelligent for his own good, and when he was really, really  angry with someone, he just went deathly quiet and it scared Castiel. Raphael was an open book, and at least with him, Castiel knew what to expect.

But now everything in the house had gone quiet, and that was when it was dangerous.

Lucifer gripped Castiel's shoulders, trying to force him to look him in the eyes. "Castiel? What's wrong? Answer me!"

Castiel couldn't swallow, his mouth had gone dry and he felt like his mouth was filled with sand. His hands were trembling. He didn't know what was causing it, all he knew was that he wanted to get away from here. Anywhere but here. His fingers wound through his hair as he blocked out Lucifer's voice, just trying to escape his mind.

"Gabriel!" Lucifer shouted, piercing through Castiel's veil. "Help! Castiel's broken!"

Castiel didn't blame Lucifer for what he said now. He'd gotten over it. But those two words had imprinted themselves in Castiel's brain. They rose up whenever he felt his anxiety coiling around his stomach. "Castiel's broken."  There was no point in denying it, Castiel knew already. He was a broken kid with an even more broken family. The Novak's had a very good facade; to the outside world, they were a perfect family. Behind closed doors, the cracks ran deep and distorted the picture, like a broken mirror. Michael 'ruled' them with ever loyal Raphael at his side. Naomi couldn't speak out against him, not that she would have anyway. Gabriel was as changeable as the weather. One minute, he was defending Castiel or Lucifer fiercely, the next he was smiling and politely holding discussions with Michael at the dinnertable. Much like his father, Gabriel had control issues. Lucifer was always there for Castiel, but he was silent. He'd learnt a long time ago that the easiest way to deal with their family was to exclude himself from their petty arguements. Lucifer had excelled in the act of being forgotten.

Castiel was stuck somewhere in the middle. He was always trying to do his best for his parents, but his best simply wasn't good enough. He'd tried Lucifer's technique of falling into silence, but he was too invested in playing his part as the perfect son to retreat now.

 

Castiel awoke the next morning feeling more awake than he had in many years. While the prospect of his death hung over his head like an anvil, Castiel felt the weight of his family's expectations off his shoulders. He was no longer putting on some act to try and stop them from worrying. He pushed off the covers of his bed. The room he'd been given in the training center was huge and luxurious. Castiel had always lived a privileged life, but this kind of indulgence was something else. The bed itself was large enough to sleep about five people comfortably, and was the most comfortable thing Castiel had ever felt.

He stood, his feet sinking into the soft white carpet. Maybe he'd be able to enjoy the splendor a bit more if he wasn't about to be thrown in an arena filled with killers in two weeks. 

Dressing himself in the clothes laid out for him - a simple black shirt and pants - Castiel made his way to breakfast. Everyone wore the same outfit in training. He wasn't particularly looking forward to it either. The Opening Ceremony was bad enough, but in training, they were all on level ground. Castiel wasn't big, but he wasn't small either. He was entirely average, and average wouldn't help him in any way. He'd seen a few tributes in the re-caps of the Reaping that he was already worried about, mostly the hulking tribute from District 11. Him, and the obvious career tributes had just made Castiel even more worried. The only real surprise the Reaping held was the volunteer tribute from District 12, who ran forward to take her sister's place. Castiel had felt the same respect for her that he had felt for Joanna. He wondered if any of his brothers would have done the same, if they were younger. He knew for a fact that Raphael wouldn't, and Castiel wouldn't blame him either. While Gabriel or Lucifer may have volunteered for him, Castiel wouldn't have wanted them to.

Joanna was already there waiting, her long blonde hair tied back in a simple ponytail. Unlike the soft blue dress she had been wearing yesterday, the plain training clothes didn't make her appear to be younger than she really was. Instead she had a look of quiet determination on her face. She looked up at Castiel and a small smile spread across her face. Castiel felt himself smiling back at her without a second thought, like it was some kind of involuntary reflex. Like he'd said before, Joanna was infectious.

"Good sleep?" She asked, sipping on a cup of hot chocolate.

Castiel nodded, taking a seat beside her at the table. Breakfast, like every other meal they'd had so far, was huge. Bowls filled with fruits covered in syrup, breads with different flavours, miniature sausages and strips of ham still warm smothered with sauces. It'd taken Joanna a few meals to get used to the rich foods, whereas Castiel had been a bit more experienced with Capitol food whenever they had an offical dinner party at the Milton's house and their whole family had been invited. But the Capitol was still a whole new level of decadence and extravagance.|

"So are you ready for today?" Joanna asked as Castiel began his breakfast.

Castiel shrugged. "Well it's not like I have much of a choice, right?"

Joanna rolled her eyes and elbowed Castiel gently. "It's going to be interesting to see the other competitors." She said, her eyes glazing over a little with worry.

Castiel gave her a small pat on the shoulder for support. "Hey, you'll be fine. Everyone will love you." He tried - and failed - to reassure her.

Joanna shrugged. "Maybe. Hurry up and finish, we're going down soon." She said, her constant smile returning to her face.

**Dean**

Dean didn't know what he'd been expecting, but the enormous room filled with different weapons and training stations had blown Dean away. Every single weapon he knew of (and many he didn't) lined the walls and realistic dummies stood at the training stations, ready to be decapitated and mangled. Swords, knives, bows, arrows, darts, maces, spears, cleavers and scythes lay untouched, trainers standing next to each section to help the tributes to learn. Dean glanced over at Katniss, who was eyeing the bows with a hungry kind of interest. Her fingers clenched and unclenched, and Dean could tell that she was imagining wrapping her fingers around the handle and pulling back the string.

Dean glanced around at the other tributes, sizing them up. He was surprised when he saw Ruby face to face. He'd been expecting her to be at least a whole foot taller, instead, she was small. It made him smirk when he saw her standing next to Crowley, who was about the same height as Dean. The fiery redhead tribute from District 1, Abaddon, and her partner, Alastair, made their way straight for the knife throwing station, locked in deadly combat with each other, and moving with speed and skill. Ruby and Crowley looked on approvingly. Clearly the careers were already seeking each other out.

Dean looked around for the small blonde that he had seen in the Reaping re-cap. He locked eyes with her from across the room, and was surprised at her appearance. When he had first seen her, she had seemed a lot younger and smaller, trying to be brave. Now, she _was_ brave. She stood with her arms folded and her hair tied out of her face. Her face was stony and cold, and she stood tall next to her district partner, a boy about Dean's age. When she made eye contact with Dean, he offered her a small smile, trying to appear friendly. She gave a quick glance to the boy next to her, like she was looking for reassurance. While she appeared cold, she was probably just as nervous as she was during the Reaping.

Dean turned his attention to the boy as she whispered something in his ear. Like he had done with the girl, Dean assessed the boy. He tried to remember their names. Joanna and . . . Castiel? Dean ran his eyes over the way Castiel stood. Like Joanna, Castiel was standing tall with his arms folded over his chest. Unlike Joanna, however, his stance didn't seem so forced. His jaw was set and his eyes were narrowed, but there was something dead behind them. Dean guessed that Castiel wasn't going to be a huge competitor. But something about the way Castiel positioned himself in front of Joanna and softened when he looked at her reminded him of his relationship with Sam. Suddenly, he felt a rush of compassion for the boy from District 5. Obviously, he and Joanna weren't related (due to their different last names) but Castiel had taken it upon himself to look after Joanna, and Dean respected that.

He glanced over at Katniss, who seemed to be assessing other tributes like he was. She seemed to be particularly interested in the light haired tribute from District 9. When she noticed Dean looking at her, she shrugged. "He just reminds me of someone back home." She admitted quietly, not meeting Dean's eyes.

Dean raised an eyebrow, but didn't press her. "Should we get started?" He asked, tearing his eyes away from District 5's tributes and over to the various weapons. He was itching to get his hands on a bow and let off some steam, but Katniss had other ideas.

"I think we should try some things that we're less familiar with first, so that we can learn some new skills." Katniss explained, gesturing to the knot tying station and spear throwing.

Dean nodded. "Makes sense." He agreed. While he would have preferred to stick with weapons he was comfortable with, he could understand the need to learn new skills. There was no guarantee of what they would face in the arena.

As they moved over to the knot tying station, Dean found himself watching Joanna and Castiel again. She was grinning as she tried to teach him how to hold a knife properly, which he was failing at. Castiel was smiling too, but smiling with a fondness. Dean didn't know why the pair had made such an immediate impact on him. Maybe it was the dynamics of their relationship. That had been what had drawn him to Katniss to begin with, their mutual need to survive and the way they both centered their lives around their younger sibling. So far, Castiel had fit a similar mold.

"Do you think we should have any allies?" Dean asked Katniss quietly, looking away from Joanna and Castiel.

Katniss looked up at Dean and frowned, knitting her eyebrows together. "I don't think that's a good idea Dean." She said seriously, assessing Dean silently, then looking past him over to Joanna and Castiel. She looked from them to Dean several times before sighing. "Look, I get the appeal. She looks like Prim, and he's pulling off the whole 'older brother' act." She dropped the piece of rope she was working on. "But that'll only make it harder in the long run." She looked Dean in the eye, commanding his attention. "If you want Sam to live, every one of these people will have to die." She said bluntly, not wasting her breath. "Joanna Harvelle will die. Castiel Novak will die. Everyone of these people will die. Abaddon, Alastair, Ruby and Crowley. All the careers. And we will be the ones to kill them, because Prim and Sam need us. Now, are you going to pull your head in and accept that, or are you going to keep pretending that you can save them?" She demanded an answer, and Dean could see that she was close to crying. Her voice had cracked on the word 'save' and Dean had to swallow hard.

When he didn't answer her, she sighed and relented. "I'm sorry Dean, but you can't save everyone. I had to get you to see that."  
  
Dean didn't respond for a long time. "I'm going to go and throw a spear." He said bluntly, making it clear that he didn't agree with her. Before she could protest, he stood and walked away on his own, needing some time to think. He looked at the selection of spears available to practice with. They ranged from traditional wooden one to high tech steel with a retrievable feature. He grabbed a simple steel one with a pointed end instead of an attached spear head. Rolling it over in his hands, Dean tested the weight before pulling back and throwing it into a dummy with as much force as he could manage. While he had hoped to get a shot through the chest or head, the spear still managed to impale itself in the gut of the dummy. It wouldn't cause immediate death, but the injuries would be irreversible. It would be difficult (if not impossible) to survive a wound like that.

Dean retrieved the spear and walked back to his spot, taking aim again. Again, his spear found it's mark in the lower abdomen. Shot after shot, Dean felt himself improving slightly, despite a few misses. As his anger started to wear off, so did the power of his throws. By the time he finished, his shoulder was aching with exertion and he was worn out. His anger at the Capitol wasn't gone, but he was too tired to care anymore.

Despite what Katniss had said, he cast another glance over to Joanna and Castiel. Joanna was listening intently to the trainer, but Castiel was glancing over at Dean. Their eyes met for a split second before Castiel turned away, embarrassed. Dean could see heat rising to the other boy's cheeks as they turned a shade of red.

Dean looked away, and felt a smile play across his lips. Castiel intrigued him. His fondness for Joanna, someone who wasn't family. His dead eyes, his beaten, yet proper posture and his obvious interest in the other tributes.

 

At the break for lunch, Dean made his way back over to Katniss, who was apologising before Dean even got close to her.

"Look, I know, I was out of line. I'm sorry. I guess, I don't know, I guess I'm scared and I just want Sam and Prim to be ok." She burst out, almost tripping over her own words in her eagerness to apologise.

Dean smiled slightly. "Seriously Katniss, it's ok. You're right, but that doesn't mean I have to like it." He added firmly, trying to make her understand that he didn't want to write off the idea of allegiances just yet.

Katniss slowed down and nodded, seemingly understanding what Dean was trying to say. "Ok, I'm not entirely opposed to partnerships either, depending on who you have in mind."

Dean looked over as the careers pulled all the lunch tables together for them, leaving only a few spare ones for everyone else. Dean claimed a table and sat next to Katniss. "So what have you learnt?" He asked, making small conversation.

Katniss glanced around the room. "Ok, so far, the tributes that seem to be careers are Abaddon and Alastair from District 1, Crowley and Ruby from 2 and Azazel, the boy from 4. The girl from 4, Meg I think her name is, she doesn't seem to be interested in siding with them, but I wouldn't trust her." Katniss moved on quickly. "Crowley seemed to be interested in District 3, not sure why, they haven't really made an impression yet. Obviously, you know about District 5. District 6 is pretty irrelevant. District 7, unfortunately, had the worst luck." She broke off, wincing. "Lisa and Ben, happen to be brother and sister. Bad luck. District 8, Charlie and Benny. Charlie seems to know how to hold a sword and shield, but Benny's the one to look out for. Deadly with hand to hand combat. District 9, not sure about the girl, but the boy's name is Samandiriel." Katniss paused for a second, the tiniest of smiles on her lips. "He seems nice." She said, no other comment necessary. "And then there's District 10, which I didn't learn anything about. And finally District 11. I don't know the girl, but the boy's name is Uriel and he was approached by the careers. They want him on their side. I don't think he'll go though." Katniss finished her assessment, sitting back in her chair.

Dean blinked in shock. "You learnt all that in a few hours?" He asked in disbelief.

Katniss scowled. "Well I needed something to do, so I decided that observing would be the best way to learn." She defended herself.

Dean was about to say something else when they were approached by Joanna, Castiel not far behind her. "Can we sit here?" She asked, almost shyly. "Everywhere else is full."

Dean glanced over at the other tables. Most had been claimed by other districts, however there were still many spare seats at the career table, not that anyone would dare to sit there. "Sure." He said, gesturing to the other side of the table, which was empty.

Joanna smiled slightly and took the seat opposite Katniss, while Castiel sat opposite Dean.

"I'm Joanna Beth Harvelle." Joanna introduced herself, glancing between Katniss and Dean, like she wasn't really sure which one to address. "But everyone calls me Jo." She gestured to Castiel. "This is Cas. We're from District 5."

Dean gave her a small smile before turning to Castiel. "I'm Dean Winchester, and this is Katniss Everdeen. We're from District 12." He introduced Katniss and himself.

He could see Jo's eyes trained on Katniss. He could tell that she was desperate to say something, but afraid to. His small smile turned into a full on grin. "She doesn't bite, much." He admitted, and saw Cas smile out of the corner of his eye.

Jo took a deep breath. "Did you really volunteer for your sister?" She asked, her eyes wide.

Katniss blinked in shock. "Ah yeah." She glanced over at Dean, unsure of how to answer.

"You're so brave." Jo murmured, admiration lacing her voice. 

Katniss smiled very softly. "Do you have any siblings?" She asked, trying to start a conversation.

Once Jo started talking, it was hard to get her to stop. Not that Katniss or Dean minded. Jo was infectious, and her smile was hard not to return. Castiel, on the other hand, stayed silent. Jo told them nearly everything about their district and her home, but Castiel said nothing. Dean wanted to ask him about it, but he wasn't quite sure how. 

**Castiel**

As soon as they had entered the room, Castiel wanted to leave. Just looking at the endless amount of weapons had made Castiel want to throw up. Silently, Jo glanced up at him and put a hand on his arm. He was grateful for her. He was grateful that she was something from home to hold on to. He was grateful that she had decided to help him. He was grateful that she had grown on him. 

Jo returned to assessing people in the room. Everyone was the same and equal here in the training center, no flashy costumes or chariots. The careers were the first that caught Castiel's attention. Crowley. He held himself with the typical kind of arrogance Castiel had seen hundreds of times before on both Raphael and Gabriel. Easy confidence, worn over pride. Crowley wasn't very big or tall, in fact, he was very average. But his posture and expression lead Castiel to believe that he would have no problem with embedding a knife in someone's skull. Ruby. Small and lithe, she looked quick, and she wore the same over confident smirk as Crowley. But while Crowley seemed to be wearing his arrogance as amour, Ruby's seemed to be natural, like she wasn't putting on an act. And that worried Castiel more than any of the other tributes. 

"Is that District 12?"

Castiel looked down to follow Jo's gaze at the two tributes standing side by side on the other side of the room. The boy was looking over at Jo, and offering a smile smile; which confused Castiel. His gaze shifted from Jo to Castiel, and he meet Castiel's eyes. The first thing Castiel noticed about Dean Winchester was his smile. It caught him off guard. It was a huge display of warmth and kindness in a place where there shouldn't be any warmth and kindness. It was so rare that Castiel wanted to burn the memory into his brain. Granted, the smile had originally been directed at Jo, but Castiel marveled at it all the same. He wanted to return the smile, but in doing so, he would open himself up to all kinds of emotions that he couldn't afford to be feeling. He had already screwed things up enough by letting Jo worm her way into his heart, and he couldn't afford to let anyone else in.

Instead, he found himself observing Dean subtly throughout the day. He didn't mean to, but something about the boy from District 12, who'd offered Jo a small smile, had him captivated. If Jo noticed him staring, she didn't say anything. She spent most of her time teaching Castiel small skills that would be very likely to save his life once they got into the arena.

"No, you hold it like this." Jo sighed, but Castiel could tell that she was enjoying the ability to teach him something.

"So where did you learn how to use a knife?" Castiel asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm pretty sure they don't teach it at school." Jo came from an area of District 5 known as the 'turbines', where the people who worked in the power stations lived. It was the poorest area of District 5, the area where Gabriel was moving to. People who lived in the turbines were usually malnourished and had to take out tessarae. Jo was one of these people. There was no way she had ever learnt to use a knife there.

Jo smirked. "I'm friends with Ash, y'know, the butcher's kid? Anyway, he showed me a few things while his Mom was out. I've gotten pretty good." She added with a grin.

Castiel couldn't help but smile back at her. He let her guide his fingers into the correct position for holding a knife before picking up her own to mirror his actions. He knew straight away that he had messed up his hold on the knife again, but he didn't bother to correct himself. There would be a trainer helping them soon, so he just let his eyes wander the room. It wasn't a surprise when his gaze fell yet again on Dean Winchester. 

Now, he was away from the girl, Katniss, and he was throwing spears at one of the dummies. Clearly, Dean had handled weapons before. That was made clear by the way he threw the spear with a kind of familiar strength. When the spear met it's mark and Castiel saw the look of anger on Dean's face, he felt a chill spread over his body. He'd thought of Dean like he was some kind of hero. It was stupid and childish, but as soon as Dean had sent a spear into the stomach of the dummy, Castiel was harshly reminded that Dean probably wouldn't hesitate to kill him within a few weeks. That kind smile he'd given Jo would mean nothing when he was faced with the prospect of his life versus theirs.

This realization didn't stop Castiel from watching him though. As Dean's anger wore away, his throws became less and less powerful, and less precise. He finished his session with a final throw, which nearly missed the target. Castiel's breath caught in his throat when Dean looked up and caught him staring. For about a second, Castiel felt unable to look away. Dean wasn't angry anymore, he just looked tired.

Blushing, Castiel turned his attention back to the trainer who was trying to explain the correct way to throw a knife, but all he could focus on was the way Dean's lips had tilted upwards the slightest when he saw Castiel.

 

When the break for lunch finally rolled around, Jo lead Castiel around to the tables. Unfortunately, due to the careers and their own lateness, all the tables were occupied. Castiel glanced over at the spare seats at the career table. Ruby was sitting at the head of the table, kicking her feet up by the food and laughing loudly at something Crowley had said. It was like she was just spending another day at school. She was so completely and utterly confident with herself that she didn't even feel the need to worry about her indefinite future. She could actually enjoy herself.

Abaddon sat to one side of Ruby, occasionally sending her glares of death when she thought Ruby couldn't see. Abaddon was something else entirely. Where Ruby was loud and confident, Abaddon was sly and clever. Between his bouts of watching Dean, Castiel had managed to glance at the careers. Abaddon may have been entirely overshadowed by Ruby, but she was clever with hand to hand combat and knife throwing. Something told Castiel that if it came down to a showdown between Abaddon and Ruby, Abaddon would win with a knife to Ruby's back while she was distracted.

Crowley looked vaguely amused by Ruby, but Castiel could tell that he would really rather be anywhere else than sitting beside her. Alastiar seemed to be the only one actually interested by Ruby.

Castiel decided that he would rather go hungry than join the careers at their table, but Jo had come up with a solution. "No one's sitting with District 12." She pointed out casually.

Castiel glanced over to where Dean and Katniss were sitting and sucked in a sharp breath. He would really rather not to sit next to the boy he'd barely been able to keep his eyes off all day, but he guessed that he didn't really have a choice; Jo was already making her way over to their table. He followed behind awkwardly, not quite sure where to place his eyes now.

"Can we sit here?" Jo asked. "Everywhere else is full."

Castiel risked a look at Dean, who was glancing around the room. For a second, Castiel had a awful feeling that Dean was going to turn them away, but when he said "Sure", Castiel felt himself relax. He took the seat opposite Dean, and trained his eyes to the table. 

"I'm Joanna Beth Harvelle, but everyone calls me Jo." Castiel was surprised at how easily Jo introduced herself even though she had appeared shy only seconds ago. "This is Cas, we're from District 5."

Castiel looked up and saw the same kind smile on Dean's face again before he turned to face him. "I'm Dean Winchester, and this is Katniss Everdeen. We're from District 12." The smile didn't falter once. "It's ok, she doesn't bite." Dean reassured Jo, noticing her eagerness to ask Katniss a question. Castiel felt himself smile, and for once, he didn't worry about Dean Winchester making any kind of impression on him, because it was far too late for that.


	5. Chapter 5

**Dean**

Dean knew that Katniss was angry before she said a word. He could see it in the way her fists were clenched and her tight lipped smile. But it wasn't just anger that boiled under her skin. It was pain and hurt and sadness and grief, and it threatened to overflow and break the perfect facade she had been wearing like a mask. She'd been so strong all day, talking to Jo like the action didn't cause her physical pain. But Dean had seen it in the way her eyes had glassed over whenever Jo laughed or smiled. He'd seen the way Katniss had moved around Jo, similar to the way Castiel had moved around her. They were both acting like shields. Jo had so easily claimed a place in their hearts with her innocence and happiness that radiated off her. 

And now, Katniss was  _hurting_. They were back in the privacy of their room, and all the walls came down. Silent tears rolled down her cheeks, and she refused to wipe them away.

"It's ok to feel." Dean murmured, knowing that one word would probably send her into a rage.

"It just not  _fair_." Katniss' whole body shuddered when she spat out the last word. "How could they? She's going to die Dean." She moved forwards, stumbling. Dean caught her easily and held her tight as she let herself sob. Dean had never seen Katniss so emotionally exposed as he did now. Her whole body consolved with heartbreaking sobs. The thing about Katniss was that she was so preoccupied with making sure everyone else was okay that she never had time to be okay herself. She pushed every feeling underneath a hard exterior of the hunter she'd built herself up to be. But here, she wasn't a hunter. She was a scared sixteen year old girl. A girl who had the weight of keeping her family alive resting on her shoulders. A future that relied on turning herself into a killer. A future that was uncertain. A future that was being jeopardized by a small girl from District 5 who didn't deserve to die. 

Dean had already given up. He'd never really intended to win, but he did want Katniss to survive. And that's what he would do. He'd protect her, and then when the time came, he would die. Katniss would go home, Sam would live, Prim would live. They'd be safe.

Sleeping no longer became a release. Nightmares filled Dean's nights, and every one of them ended with Sam screaming as he died. But Sam wasn't the only one that died in Dean's dreams. Katniss died, Prim died, Jo died. The only one left alive was Dean, and that was the worst part. Because the nightmares didn't end as soon as someone died, they stretched out long after that as the guilt tormented Dean until he took his own life. Because what was the point of living if there was no one to live with you?

No, sleeping wasn't a release. But training was. Oddly enough, Dean found himself looking forward to training. He looked forward to seeing Jo's face. He looked forward to being able to let a few arrows loose at the targets. He even looked forward to seeing Castiel. The four had formed some kind of unspoken allegiance over the past three days.

"Cas, you really suck at holding a bow." Dean pointed out casually with a smug grin on his face. Dean had taken it upon himself to teach Castiel how to use weapons, since he was pretty much hopeless at anything he attempted. Dean didn't even bother going back to the knife throwing station.

Castiel rolled his eyes - which was basically his main response to anything Dean said - and pulled back the bowstring. He narrowed his eyes, squinting at the target. Dean watched as Castiel let out a smooth breath and let go. The arrow sliced through the air, and met it's mark only about two inches off the bulls eye.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Seriously?" He shook his head, disbelieving. "That's not fair. It took me ages to learn how to use a bow."

Castiel frowned. "It's not that difficult. You just take into consideration gravity and force."

Now it was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "We're not all math geniuses Cas. Mostly we just aim and let go." He gave Castiel a small pat on the shoulder before going to retrieve the arrow. He could feel Castiel watching him the whole way there. It surprised Dean how easily Castiel had grown on him. Jo was different, she was too much like Prim for Dean to ignore, but Castiel? He tried to convince himself that it was because of the way Castiel had protected Jo, but he was kidding himself. Mostly Dean didn't like to think about physical attraction because whenever he did, he opened himself up to feelings that were a liability. He'd never felt any kind of attraction to Katniss, and that was why their relationship worked so well. Because they weren't in love, they were family. But Dean would be lying if he said that he didn't like looking at Castiel when he wasn't paying much attention to Dean. 

He walked back to Castiel and glanced over at Katniss, who was teaching Jo how to use a bow too. She gave Dean a small smile, like she was actually genuinely happy. Dean tried to act like he was back at home, happy and free to a certain degree. Like he was out in the forest with Katniss and they were hunting or practicing their archery. Those were some of Dean's best memories. The ones where he could pretend that the Hunger Games didn't exist.

He handed Castiel the arrow and tried to ignore the way Castiel's fingers felt when they brushed against his. "Ok buddy, now you can try and use those math formulas again to get a bulls eye." He joked easily.

As it turned out, Castiel had a bit of a natural talent with a bow, which made Dean laugh and scowl at the same time. "Alright hotshot, let's go throw an ax and see how good you are at that."

Thankfully for the sake of Dean's pride, Castiel wasn't very good with an ax either. "What's District 5 like?" Dean asked as he threw the ax hard.

Castiel frowned as he tried to mirror Dean's actions, not quite being able to throw with as much strength. "It's alright. It's small."

Dean sighed. "That's all?" He prompted gently, picking up another ax. Dean liked tomahawks. He liked the way they felt in his hand, and the way they stuck into the target with a satisfying thud. It was sadistic, but Dean didn't really care.

Castiel shrugged. "I have a very normal life." He said simply, trying (and failing) to throw another ax.

Dean stopped and observed Castiel. "So tell me about your normal life."

Castiel sighed and put the ax down. "My name is Castiel Novak. I'm seventeen. I live in District 5. I'm the youngest of four brothers. My two oldest brothers, Raphael and Gabriel, are twins. They're always fighting. My other brother is called Lucifer. My mother's name is Naomi, and my father's name is Michael. He works with the mayor in administration. My family are people who still believe in the religion of Christianity, Lucifer and I don't though." He finished with a deep breath, waiting for Dean to comment.

Dean blinked, overwhelmed by the sudden assault of information. "Christianity?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Castiel shuffled uncomfortably. "I know." He picked up an ax and threw it, this one coming closer to the target. "I don't agree with them."

The way Castiel had opened himself up and told the truth made Dean observe him differently. Now his slumped shoulders and dejected look on his face ran parallel with his statement about his two older brothers who were 'always fighting' and the way he didn't follow his family's beliefs. "Thanks for telling me all that." Dean murmured quietly, all of the joking gone from his voice.

Castiel looked up to meet Dean's gaze, and Dean was finally struck with the intensity of Castiel's bright blue eyes. They were electric.  
"You're welcome."

**Castiel**

Castiel didn't understand Dean Winchester. He didn't understand why Dean was helping him, similar to the way Jo had decided that he was a good person. These inexplicable acts of kindness confused Castiel, because he didn't deserve it. But that didn't stop him from spending his time in training with Dean, Katniss and Jo. 

And once he started telling Dean about his life, he found it hard to stop. 

"So tell me about Lucifer." Dean said as he tried to start a small fire with dead foliage and a flint of glass.

A smile formed across Castiel's face of it's own accord. "Lucifer is a lot like me." He started. "He's quiet and reserved. He doesn't like to talk, but he's good at observing. He's shy, but really intelligent. He's not very good with emotional stuff either." He added, trailing off a little.

"And Gabriel?" Dean continued, not noticing Castiel's pause.

"Gabriel is the complete opposite. He's loud and funny and everyone loves him. He turns everything into a joke and doesn't take much seriously. He and Raphael have different views on most things." Castiel enjoyed being able to talk to Dean, because Dean didn't judge anything. He just stayed quiet and listened, gently prompting Castiel occasionally.

"Raphael doesn't sound like your best friend." Dean observed casually.

Castiel shrugged. "Raphael is just a lot like Michael, and he's afraid that I'll either turn out like Gabriel or Lucifer. He values loyalty and duty and honor and he's the perfect son. He has to be in control. Mostly I just hate the fighting between him and Gabriel whenever our parents are gone." He admitted. Suddenly he was very aware of how little he knew about Dean. "Do you have any brothers?" Castiel asked.

A small smile came upon Dean's face, like he was remembering a particularly fond memory. "Yeah, I have a little brother called Sam. Well, he's not really 'little'."

Castiel could see the love evident in the way Dean spoke. His voice was thick with emotion, and his usually easy smile was pained. Castiel was envious of Sam. The feeling surprised him, because he didn't have any reason to want Dean's affection, but he did anyway. He listened happily as Dean told him about Sam.

"And he's really good at school." Dean continued, putting out his fire. "He's so smart. He worked out this system we use with our snares, if enough weight is-" Dean broke off suddenly, widening his eyes. He glanced at Castiel fearfully.

Castiel frowned, absorbing what Dean had said. Combining that with his obvious fear, Castiel put the pieces together. "You hunt?" He whispered. It all made sense now. Dean's 'natural talent' with weapons wasn't something that he'd picked up in the few days of training, it was a survival skill he'd learnt.

Panic and fear filled Dean's eyes. He flustered for words. "Look, things are tough for me and Sam. We just do what we can to-"

"Dean." Castiel interrupted, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder. "It's ok. Who am I going to tell?" He asked with smirk.

Dean observed Castiel for a few seconds before letting out the breath he'd been holding in. "Ok." His features smoothed out and cast a sideways glance at Castiel. "Sorry."

Castiel frowned. "What are you sorry for?"

Dean smiled again, and this time he wasn't smiling at a memory, or at Jo or Katniss, it was a full, genuine smile for him, and Castiel felt his heart speed up. "Never mind. Hey, let's go do something else, I'm bored here."

Castiel returned his smile shyly and removed his hand. "Ok Dean."

 

Jo couldn't stop smiling all day, and it was so bittersweet that Castiel couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry. She was so full of life, so happy, that Castiel wanted to run and hide her away from everyone who wanted to hurt her. That was the way the Games controlled people. The actual death of the tributes was the final act, but the crushing, depressing build up was worse.

 _We'll take your children. We'll train them into cold blooded killers. We'll dress them up and parade them in front of you. We'll hold them so close, so tangibly close that you can almost believe that you can save them. We'll build them into stars. Then we'll force you to watch, powerless, as we force them to kill each other. And then you'll know that there is_ nothing _that you can do.  
_

Castiel excused himself from the dinner table and made his way to his room just before he collapsed against his wall. He clutched at his chest as he sank to his knees, pressing his back up against the wall. He couldn't breathe, his hands were shaking and his sobs were getting caught in his throat. He could hear his heartbeat roaring in his ears, over top of the white noise surrounding him. His trembling hands gripped at his shirt, his hair and the carpet, trying to ground himself, but the anxiety was getting the better of him.

_"Help, Castiel's broken!"_

Castiel pounded at his head with his fists, trying to breathe. "GET OUT!" He screamed hoarsely. He knew he was going insane. Nothing was helping. No memory could pull him out of his panic. The voices in his head tormented him, whispering in his ears. His vision was blurring, and he couldn't tell whether it was from tears or anxiety. He bit down on his cheek hard, and the metallic taste of blood flooded his mouth, threatening to choke him. He tried to gulp in air, but his chest constricted and his lungs wouldn't work.

_I'm going to die._

Before he could work out what was going on, his door was knocked down and several people ran in. Hands grabbed at his legs and arms and lifted him up. He couldn't tell whether he was hallucinating or not. His vision all but gone, he couldn't identify anyone. Their voices ran at a low hum, blocked out by the screaming in Castiel's head. The pounding of his heart had speed up so much, it was just one constant thrum. 

_I'm going to die._

All of a sudden, Castiel sucked in an easy gulp of air, before he completely gave way to the engulfing darkness.

 

"What do you want Cas?" Gabriel asked, gesturing to the array of sweets on display in the store.

Castiel stood on his tiptoes, trying to get a better look. Gabriel picked him up and put him on his shoulders. Castiel grinned and stared at the assortment of colours before him. That was usually the way Castiel chose his treat, by the brightest colour he could see. He knew that sweets were a huge treat, and most of the children in District 5 didn't get any because they were too expensive. Sometimes Castiel wished that he had friends from the Turbines so that he could share his treat with them, but no one wanted to be friends with the weird skinny boy in the village. Castiel wondered what it was about him that was so different. He would stand in front of a mirror, tracing his face and arms with his fingers, trying to find any abnormalities. As far as he could see, he didn't have anything odd like an extra arm, a tail, or wings. He was normal. He was shorter and smaller than most boys his age, but he was very normal. He had a mop of messy brown hair, a few missing teeth and those bright blue eyes. He wondered if it was the way he dressed, in his black dress pants that had been especially tailored for him, and the crisp white shirts with a blue tie and black blazer. Most of the kids that lived in the Turbines wore clothes that were dirty and either much too small, or much too big. He'd never seen anyone apart from his family and the Milton's in a tie. It took a long time for Castiel to realise that the children didn't hate  _him_ , they hated his family.

"The blue ones." Castiel decided, pointing at a bag of lollies that matched his eyes. "Please."

Gabriel grinned and handed over the coins as the store owner passed him the lollies. "Thank you." He said before taking the lollies and walking out the door, Castiel still perched on his shoulders. 

"Happy seventh birthday Cas." Gabriel said as he passed him up the lollies. "So what do you want to do now?"

Castiel took the lollies off him and stuck his hand in the bag. He passed one to Gabriel and stuck another in his mouth. "I want to give everyone a lolly. Mom, Dad, Luce, Anna. Even Raphael." He announced proudly, counting out his lollies.

Gabriel laughed. "You're a good kid Cas, don't ever change."

 

Castiel awoke to the smell of disinfectant. It was harsh and burnt his nose, but at least it reminded him that he was breathing again. Memories of his panic attack assulted him as he tried to sit up.

"Hey, look who came around." A Capitol nurse with candyfloss pink hair loomed over Castiel, a false grin plastered on her face. "How are we feeling honey?" She asked.

Castiel frowned. "I'm fine, a bit of a headache, but I'm fine." He admitted, even though his throat was still dry, and he was pretty sure that if he tried to stand, he would just fall straight back over. "What happened after I passed out?"

The nurse sighed. "Well you gave us all a real scare back there. When we got into your room, you were in the middle of a seizure. If we'd been a few minutes late, they'd be having to find a replacement for District 5." She joked with a high laugh that made Castiel wince. "Anyway, we sedated you and took you here. You've been out for about twelve hours." She finished, inspecting her long pink nails.

Castiel frowned. "Aren't I missing training?" He asked, attempting to stand.

The woman laughed again. "Oh honey, I don't think training will be any good for you today. You'll probably be too much of a danger to the other tributes."

"I feel fine." Castiel insisted, swinging his legs off the bed.

The woman sighed again. "Well I guess I can't stop you. Just wait until you get into the arena before you die, ok honey?" 

**Dean**

When Cas didn't turn up to training in the morning, Dean felt his stomach drop. And when he saw Jo enter with tear stained cheeks and dark circles around her eyes, Dean felt sick. He rushed over to her, dropping to his knees. "Jo, Jo." He said, giving her a small shake when she didn't respond. "Jo, where's Cas?" He asked, gripping her shoulders gently, but urgently.

Jo's eyes were dead, and she was as limp as a rag doll, barely having enough strength to hold herself up. "He was screaming." She said, her voice eerie and detatched. "And I called for help when he didn't hear me. I thought they could help. But they took him away."

Dean sucked in a sharp breath, worry consuming him. Katniss was by his side, holding one of Jo's hands silently. "Jo, is he-" Dean's voice broke, not wanting to consider the possibility. "Is he dead?" He asked in a small voice.

Jo looked straight at Dean, and her face crumpled, finally showing emotion. "I don't know Dean. What if he is? What will happen?" She started crying, and Katniss picked her up, pulling her away from Dean, and took her to the bathroom. 

Dean stood and ran a hand through his hair, close to breaking down. Cas couldn't be dead, not already. This wasn't right. He walked over to the archery station, wanting to clear his head. Picking the first bow he could see and a quiver filled with arrows, he knocked an arrow and let it fly into the target. He continued until he felt himself calm down, which took about three quivers of arrows. By the time he'd emptied them, Katniss and Jo emerged from the bathroom.

"It sounds like he had a panic attack or something." Katniss told Dean as she joined him. "Jo called for help and Capitol nurses came and got him. She said that he was screaming, telling the 'voice' in his head to get out." Katniss' eyebrows were pressed together with what looked like a combination of worry and fear. "Dean, do you think Cas is . . ." She swallowed. "Insane?"

Dean remembered the way Cas had pressed a hand to Dean's shoulder and reassured him the last time he'd seen him. He remembered his electric blue eyes, and the way they sometimes seemed dead, and other times seemed bright and kind. He remembered the soft curve of his lips when he concentrated, and the way they parted slightly just before he let go off the bowstring. Dean didn't even realise he'd been paying attention to those details, but he remembered them all the same.

"No." He answered definitely. "No, he's not insane." He convinced himself that the panic attack must have been something rare and stress induced. 

Katniss opened her mouth to argue, but before she could, the doors to the training center opened.

 

Dean had to control himself to stop from breaking into a run. Jo didn't have the same self-control.

"Cas!" She yelled excitedly, and ran towards him as he entered the room. Cas' tense face broke out into a small, sad smile as Jo threw her arms around him. He returned her embrace gently, like he was trying not to break her. His gaze shifted from Jo to meet Dean's eyes. In that small gesture, Dean could read his expression.

_"I'm so sorry."_

Dean reached Cas with Katniss, and had to restrain himself from hugging him like Jo had. "Dude, you gave us one hell of a fright." He said with a half smile. He didn't care that nearly everyone in the room was staring at them, all he cared about was that Cas was ok.

Cas' smile dropped, and then Dean realised how tired and worn the guy really was. "I'm sorry Dean." He said seriously.

Dean took in every part of Cas. His arms were wrapped loosely around Jo, but his hands were balled into fists. His posture was slumped, and like Jo, he had dark circles around his eyes. His dark hair was mused and messy, and Dean felt an odd urge to run his fingers through it, which he pushed to the side. His face was tired and his lips were dry and chapped. His face was gaunt, and his cheekbones became much more prominent. He looked seconds away from collapsing into a heap on the ground. Like Katniss had taken care of Jo, Dean assumed it was his turn to help Cas.

"C'mon buddy, let's go get you cleaned up." Dean said, letting Cas lean on his shoulder.

Jo untangled herself from Cas' arms, and stood by Katniss. She was putting on a brave face, but Dean could see how much she was scared and hurting. Seeing Cas freaking out last night must have messed her up a little.

"Hey, he'll be fine." Dean reassured her, and Cas gave a weak smile. "We'll be right back." He promised as he lead Cas to the bathroom. When they got there, Dean let Cas slump against the wall. "Ok man, you've got to tell me what's going on."

He looked Cas in the eyes, not allowing him to look away. Cas' eyes looked hopeless, like someone had sucked every last ounce of happiness from them. His expression was pained, and Dean almost dropped the subject to put Cas out of his misery. Almost.

"Dean, please." He murmured quietly, and his eyelids drooped, like he was about to fall asleep or pass out. He looked so small and innocent. And so  _tired_. 

"No way, you're not getting out of it that easily." Dean said decisively. He wet a paper towel with cold water and pressed it to Cas' forehead. "Let me help you Cas." He said, his voice pleading.

Cas opened his mouth slightly and closed his eyes. "Dean, I feel sick." He said, completely ignoring Dean's requests.

Dean grunted angrily. "Well then why did you come to training?" He asked, anger rising inside of him. "God damn it Cas, c'mon." The hand that wasn't holding the paper towel to his forehead cupped Cas' cheek. "I can't help you if you don't help me." His voice dropped to a more gentle tone.

Cas leant into his touch, and Dean tried to pretend that it didn't make his heart beat faster. "I had a seizure." He murmured into Dean's palm.

Dean nodded. "Does it happen often?"

Cas shrugged lightly. "It's increased since the reaping." He admitted softly, the edge of his lips pressed against Dean's hand. They stayed like that for a few moments, Dean aching to pull Cas closer, but afraid to. 

They were interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

"Well. What do we have here?"

**Castiel**

Castiel made a decision as he sat there, hopeless. Dean Winchester was beautiful. Though Dean didn't see him, Castiel watched his every move. The way Dean's hands moved quickly and deftly, and then became gentle as soon as they came into contact with Castiel. His tender touch sent a jot of electricity through Castiel's skin. The way Dean's eyebrows creased with genuine worry for Castiel made him feel ecstatic and guilty at the same time. He didn't deserve Dean's concern. He focused on Dean's lips. The way the moved when he talked, the way they sat slightly open, the way they twitched upwards slightly when he was amused, the way they turned downwards when he scowled. He focused on his short brown hair, and imagined the way it would feel against his fingers. He focused on his cheeks, jaw and nose, the way his face molded together, the way they combined to make Dean Winchester such a beautiful person.

He leant into the way Dean cupped his face, greedy for his touch. And when he opened up and told Dean the truth, he only hoped that Dean didn't move away. He knew he was pushing it by touching his lips to Dean's hand, but he didn't make a move to pull away. All Castiel wanted was for Dean to close the space between them. He knew things were going too fast, but he didn't care. He wanted Dean. Wanted him more than he had wanted anything else. He understood what it felt like to want someone. He'd never understood with Anna, but he understood with Dean.

"Well. What do we have here?"

Castiel glanced past Dean to see Crowley and Alastair standing in the doorway, arms crossed over their chests, mirror images of each other. He knew the appropriate reaction would be fear, but it was difficult to feel afraid when Dean had his hand's on Castiel's face. 

No one made a move until Crowley spoke again. "Is this your boyfriend?" He asked Dean, a confident smirk playing on his lips. Alastair laughed beside him, and all Castiel could think of were the bullies at school. Whenever they picked on Castiel, there was always one who made the jokes, and the other stupider ones who laughed at them with dumb looks on their faces.

Dean turned and positioned himself in front of Castiel, taking his hands away. Castiel wanted to stand and help protect Dean, but his head was still clouded. "Who are you?" Dean asked Crowley, avoiding the question. Unfortunately, Crowley noticed.

"So you're not saying no?" He asked, the smirk still on his face.

"I'm asking who you are." Dean fired back quickly, his hands clenching into fists. 

Crowley laughed. It was cold and bitter. "I like this one." He said with a hungry grin on his face. "He's a fighter." He cast a pitiful glance at Castiel. "This one, however, I have no interest in." He looked over at Alastair, who looked ready to fight anything that moved. "Hey, how about you ditch that weak excuse for a tribute and join us careers. It'll give you a better chance at getting home." He offered with a smug smirk.

Dean let out a harsh laugh. "Thanks, but I'll pass." He offered a hand out to Castiel. "C'mon Cas, let's get out of here."

Castiel took his hand, and let Dean pull him up, propping himself against Dean's shoulder.

Crowley sighed and put his arm against the door, blocking the exit. "I'm sorry boys, but we don't take too kindly to those who refuse my . . . deals." Alastair moved forward, only inches away from Castiel. "So how about I sweeten the offer? Join us, and we won't beat up your boyfriend here." Crowley said, extending his hand.

Dean pulled away, taking Castiel with him. "If you lay a finger on him." He threatened, bracing himself.

Castiel tried to stand on his own, refusing to let Dean get himself hurt for him. 

"How romantic." Crowley drawled sarcastically. "Unfortunately, there's two of us, and one of you, considering the fact that lover boy here is looking a little worse for wear at the moment."

"If you start a fight, you know-"

"Know what?" Crowley interrupted Dean with a smirk. "We'll get in trouble?" Alastair laughed. "In case you haven't noticed, Winchester, we're the favourites around here. There's not much we can do that will actually get us in serious trouble. Throwing a few punches in the training center bathroom will basically go unnoticed." Crowley threatened, moving forward. He raised his fist to bring it down on Castiel's face, and then everything happened at once.

Dean pushed Castiel backwards against the wall and swung a fist, which connected with the side of Crowley's head, knocking him against one of the stall doors. Alastair moved forward to grab Dean, but Dean pushed him away, both hands pressing to his chest. Crowley was back up, and moved to Castiel, gripping his shirt with one hand and bringing his fist down on Castiel's nose. White hot pain bloomed behind Castiel's eyes and he felt warm blood trickle down his face. He brought his foot up and kicked Crowley's shin as hard as he could. Crowley growled angrily and kicked Castiel back, harder. Castiel groaned and curled into a ball as Crowley kicked his stomach relentlessly. Dean grabbed Crowley from behind and threw him against a sink, and Castiel heard the sickening crunch of bones breaking.

"I thought I told you not to  _fucking_ touch him." Dean growled, furious.

Crowley moaned in pain as he slumped to the ground, clutching his nose in his hands. While Crowley was kicking Castiel, Dean must have dealt to Alastair, because he was pressed up against a stall door, looking at Dean in fear.

Castiel looked up at Dean. He had a split lip and a large bruise forming on his forehead, but he had come away the best of the four. His face was still contorted in rage, but it softened when he saw Castiel. He wet another paper towel and leant down beside him, tending to his injuries. He wiped away the blood from Castiel's nose and mouth. "How are you feeling?" He asked gently.

Castiel smiled sarcastically. "Fantastic."


	6. Chapter 6

**Dean**

"You're such an idiot!" Katniss screamed, throwing an apple at Dean from across the dining room. He dodged the apple easily and backed away. "I mean, honestly, of all the stupid, narrow minded, idiotic, thick skulled, retarded things to do, you decide to have a punch up with two  _fucking_ careers?!" She threw another piece of fruit at Dean.

"What was I supposed to do?" Dean asked, dodging as she continued to attack him. "They were going to hurt Cas!"

Katniss made a noise that was a mix between an angry scream and a sigh. "For God's sake Dean!" She dropped the orange she was holding and pressed her fingers to her temples, massaging slowly. "You're giving me a migraine." She snapped angrily.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "I think you're giving yourself a migraine." He pointed out, which earned him another piece of fruit hurled in his direction.

"Woah, what's going on here?" Haymitch asked, bursting into the room with half a bottle of clear liquid in one of his hands. His shrit was rumpled, and it was clear that he had been the one to drain half of the alcohol.

"Nothing." Dean muttered, looking away from Haymitch, who snorted loudly.

"Didn't sound like nothing." He looked over at Katniss. "What's wrong sweetheart?" He drawled patronisingly. 

With an angry groan, Katniss spun on her heel and stormed away to her room, leaving Dean to pick up all the tossed pieces of fruit. Like Crowley had said, none of the trainers really cared that there had been a fight, and when they had come out, they blamed the injuries on training too hard or accidentally walking into things. But Dean didn't regret what he had done, and he would have done it again if someone dared to hurt Cas. Or Katniss or Jo for that matter. The only thing he was worried about was when they got into the arena. The careers would target him and Cas even more than they had previously planned to. But he could handle them. Clearly they hadn't been expecting anyone from District 12 to put up such a fight.

"She is a handful." Haymitch slurred, pointing a finger in the direction Katniss had stormed off in before leaving the room, close to draining the bottle.

Dean held back a snort of laughter. Haymitch was slowly starting to grow on him. His mind wandered to Cas, like it usually did. He wished more than anything that he could be with him at the moment, just so he could actually  _talk_ to him. He thought about the way he'd looked earlier, curled in a ball as Crowley kicked him half to death. And the worst part was that Cas actually tried to fight back. His attempts at pushing Crowley away had only made the career lash out even more. Dean couldn't even begin to explain how much hatred he felt flow through his body at that point. He had no doubt in his mind that if Crowley had hurt Cas any worse, Dean would have no problem with rendering him unconscious.

And Cas didn't make a noise, he didn't cry. He held his head up. It wasn't until Alastair and Crowley left the bathroom that Cas finally let his face break. And it hurt Dean so much to see him like that. It'd been bad enough when he was getting torn apart in his head. At least Dean knew that he could fix Cas' physical wounds. He couldn't do anything about the demons in Cas' head unless he opened up to him. Dean only wished that he could get Cas to see that he didn't have to carry it all on his own.

 

Nightmares still haunted Dean's sleep, but they had a new person to focus on. Cas. Every death was more brutal then the last, and every time, Dean was just a few moments too late. Close enough to watch him die, but too far to do anything about it. He would die several times in one night. Dean knew that his dreams were just haunting images of the future. Cas would die, and there would be nothing Dean could do to save him. 

Dean awoke from one of nightmares in a cold sweat, his breath caught in his chest. "Cas." His name was on Dean's lips as he struggled to differentiate the nightmare from reality. He groaned and rolled out of bed, still half asleep. The image of Cas still beaten and bloodied was fresh in his mind. Dean just wanted to go and find Cas and be close to him for as long as possible. When he had been looking after him in the bathroom, he knew he'd broken a floodgate. He'd never wanted someone as much as he'd wanted Cas in that moment. He'd never really felt affection for anyone, but Cas seemed to be an exception to everything Dean knew about attraction.

With a glance over at the clock, Dean knew he would never be able to get back to sleep. There was only one place he could think of going in such early hours of the morning. He and Katniss had discovered the garden on the roof on the second night in the Capitol. After pacing the top floor of the Training Center endlessly, Dean had decided to take the stairs to the roof to get some air. What he hadn't been expecting was the beautiful hidden garden awaiting them. Since then, it had been a spot for both of them to get away and just forget for a while.

Dean sat almost dangerously close to the edge of the roof, throwing pebbles of the side, then catching them as the force field threw them back up. It calmed him, in an odd way. 

"Dean?"

Dean turned to see Katniss behind him, dressed only in her thin nightgown. She was shivering in the wind, which was toying with her long dark hair. He held his arms out, and she didn't hesitate before curling up on his lap, wrapping her arms around his chest and pressing her face against his shirt. Dean smiled softly and held her tight, resting his chin on her head.

"Couldn't sleep?" He asked softly.

She shook her head. "I'm sorry Dean."

Dean tilted his head and pressed his lips to her dark hair. "I'm sorry too."

 

Seeing everyone gathered in the waiting room for the private sessions gave Dean a bit of a reality shock. This was the last time they'd be gathered together before the interviews. And then after that, they would be in the arena. His eyes rested on Cas and Jo, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Over the course of a week, Dean had already considered Cas and Jo as friends. It shocked him how easily they'd made their way into his life.

Cas raised his head and caught Dean's gaze, giving him a small smile. Dean's heart reeled when he saw Cas' brusied face. Purple splotches decorated his pale skin, and his nose was slightly crooked. Dean knew that it would probably stay that way forever thanks to Crowley's fist. But the small, almost shy, smile made warmth rush to Dean's cheeks. It was such a stupid, involuntary action, but after being so close to him yesterday, Dean wasn't sure if he could look at Cas the same way. He wanted nothing more than to be near Cas, but he stayed in line.

Jo was standing close to Cas, a look of fear on her face. Dean smiled at her.  _'Don't worry'_   He mouthed silently, and grinned as he saw her face light up.

After a few minutes, Cas' name was called. Dean's breath caught in his throat as he felt Cas brush past him, and he could have sworn that he felt Cas' hand brush against his arm. Dean dropped his eyes to his feet, trying to hide the crimson blush on his cheeks. He wanted to grab Cas, pull him back, but he stayed still. He wished he could stop feeling the way he did about Cas, but he couldn't help it. There was something about the boy from District 5 that had Dean's heart racing faster.

He and Katniss waited in silence until they were the last two left. Katniss gave him a pat on the shoulder when his name was called out. "Shoot straight Winchester."

"You too." He said with a dopey grin.

Katniss smiled softly, the closest thing he could get to a grin from her. "Get moving."

**Castiel**

After his private session, Castiel assessed himself in the mirror, experimentally poking his bruises. He ran his fingertips along the crooked line of his nose, the small cut on his lips. He lifted his shirt slightly and judged the mottled skin. Running a hand over the bruises, Castiel felt the rise and fall of the ruined skin, all thanks to Crowley's boots. His body had hurt so much in the morning he was almost certain that he wouldn't be able to get out of bed. While the initial attack had been painful, the ache that came later was worse.  _If Dean wasn't there, it would have been much worse._ Castiel knew that was true. He had no doubt that if Dean hadn't stopped Crowley, he would have at least two broken bones. He remembered the way Dean had looked after he threw Crowley against the sink. He had scared Castiel a little, the way the anger was displayed clearly on his face. Castiel had shrunk back a little at Dean's towering form, but when he leant down to continue to help him, Castiel had felt a wave of compassion in his chest. Dean had just defended him from  _two_ careers, and then he continued to help him.

Castiel sighed and dropped his shirt, going to join Jo in the living room. She sat by herself on a large couch, and when Castiel entered, she eyed him warily. Castiel knew that seeing him in the middle of an anxiety attack would change what she thought of him, but he still felt a stab of guilt when he saw her glance away.

"Jo. I'm so sorry you saw me . . . lose it." Castiel stood a few feet away from her.

Jo sighed and looked down at her hands. "It's ok." But Castiel could hear just how not ok it was in her voice.

"Seriously, I never meant for you to see." Castiel tried to get her to understand.

Jo finally looked up, her brown eyes filled with tears. "You scared me Cas. I thought you were going to die. And you wouldn't stop  _screaming_." Tears spilled down her cheeks, and she wiped them away with a fist. "And I tried to help, I really did. But you couldn't hear me. Your eyes were glassy and I tried shaking you, and I tried talking to you about Gabriel and Lucifer, but nothing worked." She took a deep, shuddering breath in. "I couldn't help you. And if you died, it would be my fault."

Castiel walked forward quickly and pulled Jo into a hug, cradling her head in his hand. The second hand patted her back soothingly as she sobbed. Guilt filled Castiel's body. "Jo, you can't blame yourself. It was in no way your fault. There was nothing you could do. I am so, so sorry Jo. I'm so sorry."

Jo pulled away, her eyes red and swollen. Castiel didn't realise that he was crying too until he felt her reach out and wipe his tears away. "You're still hurt aren't you? I mean, from what Crowley did." Dean had told both of the girls the truth after they'd emerged from the bathroom, Castiel still a mess. 

Castiel shrugged, ignoring the dull ache in his stomach. "Yeah, but it's not as bad as it used to be." He said dismissively. 

Jo raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Seriously Cas, you should probably go and see a nurse or something." She insisted, her brown eyes assessing Castiel's face. Without saying a word, she reached up and brushed her fingers of the bruises on Castiel's face, and over the bridge of his crooked nose. Her touch was light and gentle, and somewhat soothing. Castiel didn't move away, he didn't make any move except for closing his eyes. Jo's hands paused over his cheeks. "You know, you're actually quite beautiful Castiel." She said in a matter of fact tone.

Castiel opened his eyes in shock. "Pardon?"

Jo shrugged. "You're quite beautiful." She repeated, dropping her hands from his face. She said it as if she was casually commenting on the colour of the wallpaper, or the kind of weather they had in the Capitol. "I just wanted you to know that. You scare me a little, but you're still beautiful."

Castiel blinked. "Thank you?" He murmured, not sure how to respond. He'd never been called beautiful before, he'd never even received a compliment close to that. The closest he'd ever come was Anna, who occasionally told him he looked nice. But Jo wasn't just making conversation, she spoke like she was stating a fact, like she was pointing out some important piece of information. 

"I just thought that I should let you know. I get the feeling that not many people have told you that before." Jo remarked, like she had read Castiel's mind. 

"Ah-no." Castiel confirmed, looking away from Jo's face, a blush forming in his cheeks.

Jo grinned. "Now  _that's_ the Castiel I want to see."

 

The scores of the private training sessions flashed on the television screen, beginning at District 1. Alastair appeared first, with a perfectly respectable 8. Abaddon followed with a 9. Castiel wasn't too surprised. Crowley scored an 8, and Ruby gained a 7. Castiel sat back. All of the careers had made it to the higher half of the scores, though none had gotten an exceptionally high mark. He glanced over at Jo, who was looking at the screen with a mix of horror and anticipation. Soon enough, Castiel's score flashed on the television. 6. He breathed a sigh of relief. A six was good. A six was safe. Not too high, not too low. Easy to forget. Next was Jo with a five. Castiel looked over at her, giving her a small smile.

She shrugged indifferently. "It doesn't really matter right?"

Castiel returned her smile. "Right."

The rest of the scores didn't really matter to Castiel until Dean's face appeared with a flashing eight beside it. Castiel raised his eyebrows, impressed. Of course though, it didn't really surprise him. Dean had already proved just how capable he was with weapons in training, and his score just proved that. Yet again, Castiel was reminded of how dangerous Dean Winchester really was.  _So why would he be so kind to you?_

"Oh my GOD!" Jo screamed, interrupting Castiel's thoughts when Katniss' face appeared with a flashing eleven beside it. Castiel's jaw dropped open in shock and he looked at Jo. 

"No, there has to be some kind of mistake, there's no way that-"

"She's obviously a lot better than we thought." Jo remarked with a grin.

Castiel stared at the screen. For most of training he had largely forgotten about Katniss, but now it was clear that she was the one that he should have been watching. Clearly she had some secret skill that she had hidden from all of them. He blushed when he thought about where he  _had_  been looking for most of the times they spent in training. Dean. It would always be Dean.

**Dean**

"Do you think that they like to watch us suffer?" Dean asked Katniss, tugging on his outfit that the stylists had prepared for them to wear for their interviews. 

Katniss rolled her eyes. "Hey, they're actually nice outfits ok? At least you don't have to be worried about being burnt alive this time." She added with a smirk at Dean's unamused expression.

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, waiting for the interviews to start.

"Katniss!"

Dean turned to see Jo running towards Katniss with an excited grin on her face. She was dressed in a soft silver dress, her blonde hair curled and placed in a bun on her head. She looked beautiful and entirely young. Obviously that was the look her stylists were going for, young and innocent. The best way to market her. Suddenly, Dean felt sick. His gaze moved from Jo to Cas, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. Cas was dressed in a suit of a similar colour to Jo's, obviously meant to represent electricity and power, their district's industry. But it wasn't the suit that shocked Dean, it was the way the stylists had erased all evidence that the fight between Cas and Crowley even existed. All of Cas' bruises had disappeared under what must have been several layers of make-up.

"How did they manage to get you to agree to that?" Dean asked, gesturing to Cas' face as he approached.

Cas smiled softly. "Trust me, it didn't go without protest." He promised.

Dean couldn't really keep his eyes off Cas. There was no trace of the beaten, broken boy he'd tried to take care of only days ago. Instead, he had been replaced with someone who held himself with a new kind of confidence. The only reminder of how broken Cas really was, was the slightly crooked nose that the stylists hadn't been able to correct. But something about his nose made Dean smile, reminded him that Cas still needed someone to help him. And Dean was happy to do just that. 

"You look good man." Dean admitted, almost shyly.

Cas smiled, a full, genuinely happy smile. "Thank you Dean."

Jo smiled and nudged Cas with an elbow. "See, I told you I wasn't the only one."

Cas dropped his eyes, and Dean could see a blush creeping up in his cheeks, which only made things worse. Dean had already moved past the point of denial, but now Cas was making it almost impossible for him to think straight.  _You have to save Sammy_. The voice in his head tried to remind him of where his loyalties lay, but with Cas standing right in front of him, looking the way he did, and blushing for God's sake, Dean was finding it hard to imagine a future with Cas dead. 

"Hey, you better get moving, I think we're starting soon." Katniss said to Jo, giving her a small pat on the shoulder.

Dean didn't break away from Cas' eyes until the last minute, and Dean felt heat rise to his own cheeks when Cas moved past him. This time, Dean was definitely sure that he felt Cas' hand brush his.

 

"So Dean, how have you enjoyed the Capitol so far?" Caesar Flickerman asked with his cheesy smile.

 _You all disgust me._ "It's all very impressive, a big change from District 12." Dean smiled back as the audience laughed.

"And what do you think of the tributes?"

 _The careers make me feel like I could actually kill someone. Jo Harvelle makes me want to personally assassinate the President, and I think I'm falling for Castiel Novak._ "Well Caesar, I think that there's some tough competition out there, but I think that there are valuable allies too." Dean answered, trying to keep the anger in his voice under control.

Caesar's smile never wavered. "I think we all know that you and Katniss Everdeen knew each other before the Games, in the footage of the Reaping, we saw you carry her younger sister away after she volunteered."

 _Don't think about Prim. Don't think about Prim._ "Katniss and I are quite close friends." Dean admitted, hoping that Caesar would take the hint, and drop the subject. No such luck.

"Well this is interesting, two close friends will be fighting against each other to come home."

 _I will punch you in the face._ "It'll definitely be a show to watch." Dean promised, hoping that Katniss understood what he meant.

"So we all saw that Katniss is going to win for her sister, is there anyone you're going home for Dean?"

 _Sammy_. "My brother Sam." Dean said, his voice changing dramatically from the joking tone he was using earlier. "He's thirteen, and he needs me back home." The audience managed a collected 'aw'.

Caesar nodded solemnly. "Well Dean, I'm sure that all of the Capitol is wishing you the very best."

 _Oh I bet._ "Thank you Caesar." Dean stood and shook his hand, waving goodbye to the audience. The sooner he was off the stage, the better. Just the sound of the cheers and applause made him want to throw up. 

_How do you do it? How do you watch these children kill each other for your entertainment? How do you sleep at night, knowing that you are the cause for these deaths? How do you justify yourself? How do you look in the mirror, and not see the monster staring back?_

 

"Cas!" Dean called after the interviews, as everyone was filing back to their rooms. Tomorrow the Games would begin, and everyone would be tossed in the arena. The least people could do now would be try to sleep, or reflect on their lives, but Dean had something else in mind.

Cas turned, his blue eyes confused, but he still smiled when he saw Dean. "Dean. Is something wrong?" He asked as Dean reached him.

"No, I just, I have to tell you something, before tomorrow." He managed, meeting Cas' eyes intently.

Cas nodded, and gripped one of Dean's hands, pulling him away from the crowds of people and into an empty hallway. Dean wanted to pretend that he didn't love the feeling of Cas' hand around his, but he allowed himself a moment of guilty pleasure. He didn't mind when Cas didn't let go either.

"You were saying?" Cas asked, looking into Dean's eyes.

Suddenly, Dean felt like it was just him and Cas. Just him and the beautiful, broken boy who looked at him with such kindness and warmth. Just him and the boy he'd been trying so hard to not get attached to, yet failing desperately. Castiel Novak, with his bright blue eyes and messy dark hair. Cas, who was the youngest of four brothers. Cas, who fell to pieces, only to have Dean pick them back up. Cas, who took it upon himself to look after a girl he'd never met before in his life, simply because he was a good person.

"Cas." Dean murmured before leaning down and pressing his lips to Cas'.

Dean hadn't ever kissed someone before, he'd never wanted to, he'd never felt any need. But he  _needed_  to kiss Cas. His hands moved to cup Cas's face, his touch light and gentle, in case Cas wanted to pull away. Dean didn't know what he'd been expecting, mostly because he  _hadn't_  been expecting anything. The decision to kiss Cas had happened at a moment's notice, completely unexpected. But Dean hadn't realised how much he'd been aching for it until Cas kissed him back. Cas wrapped his arms around Dean's neck, his fingers winding through the base of his short brown hair, pulling Dean closer to him. It was clumsy, and it eager, but Dean loved it. He wanted Cas. He closed his eyes, falling into the kiss wholeheartedly, ignoring how much of a bad idea it was. He pressed up against Cas, forcing him back against the wall. He moved his hands from Cas' face, and slid them down his waist to rest on his hips. He felt Cas gasp and pull away, still leaning his forehead against Dean's. He pressed both of his hands on Dean's chest, gripping his shirt loosely. 

"Is that what you wanted to tell me?" He asked, his voice breathless and barely a whisper.

Dean grinned, opening his eyes to look at Cas. "Yeah, I guess."

Cas nodded slowly before pulling Dean in again, kissing him softly and causing butterflies to rise in Dean's stomach. He ran his tongue over Cas' teeth experimentally, and he felt him moan quietly into his mouth.

"Why?" Cas asked, pulling away again, his fingers grazing over neck, feeling his heartbeat thrum beneath Cas' touch.

Dean shrugged. "I guess I just wanted you to know. Before tomorrow." He admitted. "You have to find me Cas. As soon as we get out, find me. Don't worry about the Cornucopia, or the others.  _Please_ just find me." He pleaded, tracing the line of Cas' spine.

Cas smiled. "Of course Dean. I'll find you."

**Castiel**

Castiel lay on his bed, his fingers pressed against his lips, remembering how they'd felt pressed against Dean's. He'd wanted to kiss him ever since Dean had taken care of him that day in the training center, he just wasn't sure how. But Dean had taken care of that. And Dean was warm, and willing, and beautiful. He was everything Castiel had wanted and more. The only other kiss Castiel could compare it to was Anna's, and that was a kiss he'd rather forget. With Anna, it had been awkward and uncomfortable. With Dean, everything was different, and everything was better. He'd wanted Dean. And Dean wanted him. He'd had Dean in his hands, and for a moment, they were each others, and there was no one else.

Cas smiled stupidly and rolled over, still remembering the kiss. It was something happy to hold on to in a place where there shouldn't be any happiness. And tomorrow, he would be at the mercy of the tributes. He wondered if everything would change, if Dean would flip a switch and turn into a cold blooded killer. He wondered if Dean would kill him straight away, a knife through his heart.  _No._ Castiel refused to believe that Dean would change so dramatically. But he wondered how Dean would respond to the kiss. Would he mention it? Would he kiss him again? Castiel groaned, his good mood ruined by his over-analysis of the situation. He wished that things were different. He wished that Dean lived in District 5, that neither of them had been chosen for the Hunger Games. He wished that they could be safe and together within the safety of the District's gates.  _Would he still want you there?_  Castiel stopped. If he'd never been chosen for the Hunger Games, and he and Dean lived in District 5, would he have even met Dean?

Probably not.

He stood and made his way to Jo's room. He needed to escape his mind for a second. He knocked on her door, waiting patiently. When she opened it, her lips turned to a sad smile.

"Can't sleep?" She asked.

Castiel returned her smile and shook his head. "No, I'm too worried about-"

"Tomorrow." Jo finished, nodding. "Come in."

She opened the door and went to sit on her bed, gesturing for Castiel to join her. He sat beside her, and she held his hand tightly, supporting each other. "Did you say goodbye to Dean?" She asked, studying his face.

Cas frowned. "What do you mean?"

Jo rolled her eyes. "C'mon Cas, anyone can tell with the way you two look at each other, there's no way you just let him go tonight."

Castiel blinked in shock. "Am I that obvious?" He murmured, looking at the bed. 

Jo smiled and gave his hand a small squeeze. "Don't worry Cas, it's kinda cute." Jo's smile faded. "But what are you going to do?" She asked.

Cas groaned and flopped back on the bed. "I don't know. I've made a mess of things haven't I?"

Jo lay down beside him, sighing quietly. "There was really no easy way to enter this, but we have made it worse by making friends, or in your case . . ." She trailed off with a small smirk, causing Castiel to blush. 

"I guess we'll just have to deal with it in the morning." Castiel murmured, the buzz from the kiss starting to wear off, and leaving his exhausted. 

Jo gave his hand another small squeeze. "We'll work it out Cas." She said quietly, even though there was nothing they could do about it.

"Yeah, I know."


	7. Chapter 7

**Dean**

"Cas." Dean breathed in relief when he locked eyes with Cas from where he stood.  _Sixty seconds. Just wait sixty seconds, then he's yours again._ Dean counted down in his head.

Most of the tributes were eyeing the bounty of supplies in front of them, but not Dean. The only thing he needed to survive was standing across from him. His fingers trembled as he glanced around, tearing his gaze from Cas. Katniss was staring intently at the bow and quiver of arrows in the Cornucopia. Dean didn't try to distract her, she knew what she was doing. Jo looked absolutely terrified, and Dean knew that he would have to go for her second. First, Cas. _Fourty seconds._ Dean offered Cas the smallest of smiles, trying to reassure him. He motioned to the forest with his head, hoping Cas got the message. He returned the same gesture to Jo, and she nodded solemnly. He considered trying to catch Katniss' attention, but her best bet would be with the bow, and he didn't want to distract her from that.  _Twenty seconds._ Dean felt sick when he considered the possibility of one of them dying. _No, we all have to make it. We will make it. We have to. We'll make it through today_. He clenched and unclenched his fists, fear and anger molding into one, swallowing him. He had to do this, for Sammy, for Cas, for Jo. He could save them.  _Ten seconds_. Dean let out a deep breath through his teeth, preparing himself.

_Five . . . four . . . three . . . two . . ._ **  
**

_One_

The gong had barely rung before Dean was sprinting at full speed towards Cas, ignoring the bloodfest around him. Cas was barely off his metal plate before Dean reached him. 

"Dean." Cas breathed, gripping his arm.

Dean wanted nothing more than to just stop and hold Cas, but they had to get moving. Dean could already hear and see the tributes trying to destroy each other, and he didn't want Cas to be next. "Run." He said urgently, pulling Cas with him as they ran towards the forest. Dean glanced out of the corner of his eye to see Jo following after them, trying to catch up. Katniss was no where to be seen. 

No one dared to pursue them, they were either too busy trying to run away themselves, or too tempted by the supplies available at the Cornucopia.  _Please stay safe Katniss, and please find us_. He needed her, and he wanted her. She was the closest thing he had to home, and the closest thing he had to a sister. But he didn't dare go back looking for her, he knew that it would only end badly. He would just have to trust her survival instinct, and hope that she made it out of the bloodbath alive.

Instead, he focused on Cas and Jo, two people that he actually  _could_ help. They were well into the forest now, but they didn't stop running. They couldn't stop. They needed to make it as far away as possible, because as soon as the fighting had died down, the real predators would be after them, and they would have weapons. Dean wished that he could have at least picked up something of use, but he knew that Cas was more important. Still, a knife would have been nice. 

He could hear Jo starting to puff beside him as they continued running. Dean wasn't sure how long they'd been going, but he was starting to feel the effects of fatigue in his legs and chest. "Stop." He murmured, loud enough for Cas and Jo to hear. As they came to a stop, Dean listened intently. Besides the sound of them breathing, and the occasional bird song, the forest was quiet. Dean couldn't hear any other tributes. He sighed, letting himself lean up against a tree. He hadn't really let himself feel anything for the first hour of the games, because he needed to get Cas and Jo away from danger, but now, now he felt reality set in. 

_You lost Katniss. What if she's dead? What if she's already gone, already going home? What if you lost your only chance at keeping Sammy safe?_

"Dean?" 

Dean turned to see Cas moving beside him, his eyebrows creased in concern. He was tentatively assessing Dean, like he was almost afraid. Dean didn't blame him. Everything changed in the arena. All those kids that they had trained with for the past two weeks were the enemy. But it still hurt Dean to see Cas look at him like that.

"Ok, we need to keep moving." Dean said, pulling himself together. "The careers will regroup and start hunting people down soon. We need to-"

Dean was cut off by the sound of cannons firing. He fell silent and began to count, listing them off on his fingers. The fighting at the Cornucopia must have finished, which meant that the careers would have supplies and weapons, and be coming after whatever moved. 

"Eight." Jo finished counting. "Only eight."

Dean swallowed hard, praying that Katniss wasn't one of them. He wondered if she would be wondering the same thing about them - if she was alive. "Ok, keep moving. Keep a look out for water too."

Dean could feel Cas' eyes in him, but Dean ignored him for the time being. He could only focus on one thing right now, and that was survival. Emotions would have to wait until Dean was sure that they were safe. He started walking, the terrain starting to slope downhill. Dean couldn't see too far ahead of him, because of the density of the trees, but he knew that they were walking down a gully.  _Shit_. A gully had the tendency to make Dean feel enclosed, and it meant that they would be forced to run uphill to escape others. Being at the bottom of a hill was always the worst place to be. It made you an easier target. He took the time to assess the forest. It didn't seem too different from the forest outside the gates of District 12, aside from the 24 murderous teenagers lurking behind the trees. The fact that they had heard birds earlier reassured Dean too. Birds meant food. Food meant survival. Catching the birds would prove to be a problem, but Dean knew how to rig a few snares to catch smaller ground animals, and hopefully fish. He could never rival Sam's eye from accuracy, but he could hopefully still get them some food. But food would have to wait until they found shelter far away from everyone else. 

They'd only been walking for a few hours when the ground started to slope upwards again, leading them out of the gully. It was becoming harder to see with night closing in quickly. Dean knew that they would have to stop soon, but he still wasn't comfortable with being so close to the bottom of the hill.  _When are you ever going to be comfortable?_

Dean sighed and turned to Cas and Jo. "We have to stop. There's no point in moving at night."

Jo glanced at Cas for reassurance, clearly terrified. "Where are we going to sleep?"

Dean sighed and glanced around. "I don't know." He answered honestly. "I mean, preferably, I'd get you all up a tree, but we have nothing to secure ourselves." He slumped up against a tree again. He couldn't do this. He couldn't take care of them. He didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't save them.

Cas leant down beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Dean was close to pushing him away, but he didn't have the energy. "We'll work it out. I saw some rocks not too far back, maybe there are some caves we can sleep in?" He reasoned softly.

Dean looked up, his eyes tracing over Cas' face. He had a kind of confidence that was vastly different from Dean's. It was gentle, but firm. It was kind. Dean just nodded limply.

"Ok Cas."

**Castiel**

_It's your turn Castiel. You need to help Dean._ Castiel helped Dean up, letting him slump over his shoulder for support. Jo stood beside them, afraid, but determined. Castiel didn't really know what he was doing, but he couldn't let Dean carry all the responsibility on his own. The turned and walked back the way they came, until they reached the rocks. They seemed to be huge slabs of stone sticking out of the side of the hill, hollow on the inside, with smaller boulders littered around their entrance. They would do.

Castiel set Dean down by the entrance, and went to investigate the inside. The darkness swallowed him as he stepped inside, holding a stick he'd found on the ground. He waved it in front of him, like a blind man's cane. The cave seemed to be small, with a smooth rock ground. A few rocks were spread around inside, and the walls were smooth to the touch. It seemed as though there had been some kind of rockslide, and then land had grown over the huge slabs of rock, enclosing them. Of course, Castiel knew that it was artificial, and the Gamemakers had created it, but at least they had tried to mimic nature. 

He walked back out, surprised by how quickly the sun was setting. Even with the little light they had, the cave still didn't allow any light in. It would be a long, dark night. "Ok, we'll move ourselves in, then we'll cover the entrance with as many rocks as we can. Ok?" He looked at Dean and Jo, who nodded their assent.

Within the hour, the three were inside the cave, the entrance blocked as well as they could in the low light. It was pitch black inside, and the temperature was declining rapidly. Castiel wanted nothing more than to start a fire, but it would be stupid with the tributes hunting each other out. He also wanted to go outside and wait for the death count, but they couldn't afford to take down the wall they had made. Instead, he lay beside Jo, trying to remember what it felt like to be safe. Her steady breathing comforted Castiel, and he was glad that she was able to get some sleep. He knew that he wouldn't be sleeping tonight. 

"She's asleep."

Castiel heard Dean's voice from the other side of where Jo lay. "I know." He murmured quietly.

He heard Dean shift, and his quiet footsteps as he walked over to Castiel. He felt Dean slide down beside him, back pressed against the wall of the cave. Before Castiel knew what was happening, Dean was reaching for him, pulling him close. Castiel sat and lent against Dean's side, feeling his arms wrap around him, grateful for his warmth. 

"Is this ok?" Dean asked, his lips so close to Castiel's cheek that he could feel his breath. 

Castiel couldn't quite remember how to speak as Dean's cold fingers trailed up his back. He nodded stupidly, before remembering that they couldn't see each other. "Yes." He whispered, leaning his head down to Dean's chest, resting against him. He was hungry, and cold, but he was ok. Because Dean was holding him.

"I'm sorry about today." Dean murmured, leaning his chin to Castiel's hair. 

Castiel remembered how Dean had looked when they had been in the Cornucopia. His eyes were wild with fear, and he had gripped Castiel so tight, Castiel thought Dean was going to hurt him. It had scared him. But now, as Dean was holding him softly, he felt that fear melt away. "It's ok." Castiel mumbled against Dean's shirt.

Dean shook his head. "No it's not. Cas, I'm sorry." His fingers traced Castiel's spine, all the way to his neck. 

Castiel sighed and looked up, and though he couldn't see Dean's face, he cupped his cheeks gently. "You're an idiot." He smiled.

He felt Dean's frown turn into a grin in his hands. "I know."

Castiel barely had to pull Dean closer before he lent down, cradling Castiel's neck as he kissed him. The kiss was soft and kind, and Castiel could basically feel Dean's apology in it. It was a bad idea, and would only make things messier, but Castiel was way past caring. And Dean was so willing, pulling him closer. Castiel's hands slipped slipped over Dean's cheeks and curled around the back of his head, Castiel winding his fingers through Dean's short hair. Dean trailed his kisses across Castiel's jaw, biting softly at his earlobe before moving into the crook of his neck. "Dean." Castiel breathed as Dean moved his hands to Castiel's hips, turning so that he was in front of him. Castiel lent back, allowing Dean better access to his neck. "Dean." Castiel warned again.

Dean raised his head, and Castiel wished that he could see his eyes. The most he could make out was a smoky outline only inches away from his face, but he could feel Dean smirking. "The cameras can't see us Cas."

Castiel hadn't been thinking about the cameras until Dean brought them up. "I didn't mean that." He said gently, moving his hands to curl his fingers into Dean's shirt.  
Dean pressed his forehead to Castiel's. "Then what's wrong?"

Castiel smiled and tilted his head, brushing his nose against Dean's. "Jo's lying right there." He pointed out. As a blush crept up his cheeks, Castiel was suddenly very grateful for the darkness.

Dean laughed softly. "You're such a prude." He complained, but he kissed Castiel again, chaste and close mouthed, just enough to leave Castiel wanting more. "Are you tired?" He asked, concern creeping into his voice.

Castiel shook his head. "No, I don't think I can sleep." He admitted.

Dean moved his arm to support Castiel's back, before pulling him down to lie beside him. Castiel, still holding on to Dean's shirt, lay his head against Dean's shoulder, curling into him. He let out a long breath, leaning his forehead to Dean's chest. 

"Try."

And just like that, Castiel did.

 

It was Jo that found them the next morning, still fast asleep. The cave was still dark, but light wormed it's way through the spaces in their rock wall. 

"Get a room you two." Jo complained, poking Castiel in the back with her toe. 

Castiel groaned and rolled out of Dean's embrace on to his back. He was surprised at how little it bothered him that Jo had seen them together. "How about you sleep outside then?" He joked weakly, his body aching from sleeping on the hard ground.

Jo rolled her eyes and moved over to Dean, shaking his shoulder. "Hey at least you two were warm last night, I'm freezing." She got up and peeked through one of the cracks in the rocks. After assessing outside, she pushed one of the boulders on the top out of the way, and light spilled into the cave.

Dean sat up, his light brown hair mused from sleeping. "How long have you been up?" He asked, squinting against the light.

Jo shrugged. "I had a restless sleep, I woke up a lot this morning before actually  _getting_ up." She put her hands on her hips, looking down at Castiel and Dean. "So what's the plan for today?" She asked purposefully. 

Dean scoffed. "Stay alive." He offered before lying back down.

Jo rolled her eyes. "Look, I'm tired, cold and hungry. And we're going to do something about that." She decided, climbing out of the small hole she'd made in the rocks.

Jumping up, Castiel ran after her, pushing another rock down so he could fit out, Dean not far behind him. The light made Castiel squint, and it took him a few seconds to adjust. "I wonder who's left." Castiel said quietly, not really addressing anybody. He hadn't spent as much time with Katniss as he had with Dean and Jo, but he did want to find her. He knew that it was hurting Dean, and that was enough to upset Castiel. 

Jo shrugged. "I didn't hear any cannons since last night."

Castiel frowned. "We're never going to know who died in the bloodbath."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Yeah we are, Katniss will tell us when we find her." He said with a kind of authority that Castiel didn't bother to argue with. It was obvious that Dean had no doubts about Katniss being alive.

"What do we do for food?" Castiel asked, changing the subject abruptly. 

Dean smiled a little. "Well we set some snares and find water." He said, like it was the most simple thing in the world. 

"How?" Jo asked, glancing at the trees.

Dean smiled slightly. "Just follow me."

**Dean**

Dean was constantly on edge. Every noise sent his heart racing, every movement he caught in the corner of his eye made him spin around. He gathered several strong sticks, and passed one to Cas and Jo. As he set his snares, he made sure Cas and Jo mimicked his actions exactly. After a few hours of walking, they finally came across a thin stream. It took every fiber of Dean's being to not drink as much of it as his body could hold. "Just wait, we'll follow it upstream, see where it flows from."

Cas and Jo nodded silently, holding their sticks in front of them like shields. Dean let his gaze linger on Cas for an extra second. His normally messy dark hair was even more ruffled, and he had dark circles under his eyes. All Dean wanted was to take him back to the cave and let him sleep.  _Like you wanted to let Sammy sleep?_  Dean broke his glance from Cas and continued walking up the hill, forcing Sam to the back of his mind.  _Not here_.

A cannon distracted Dean from his thoughts, causing him to whip around. Cas and Jo stared back at him, wide eyed in fear. He felt a small amount of relief when he realised it wasn't either of them, but his fear returned when he saw the hovercraft pass them and come to a stop only about thirty meters away. Whoever had killed the tribute, they were close. 

"Get up a tree! Now!" Dean hissed, grabbing them by their shoulders and pulling them towards the nearest tree. Dean quickly got a stable foothold and pulled himself up two branches before reaching back down for Cas' hand. He pulled Cas up and kept climbing, hoping that Cas would help Jo. He could already hear people talking not too far away from them. He didn't stop climbing until he felt branches beginning to give under his weight. He looked back down to see Cas and Jo safely nestled in the leaves below him. Cas glanced up at him, his eyes saying everything he couldn't.  _Are we going to die?_

Dean looked away, he couldn't deal with this, with the prospect of their imminent death looming so close. He lent down. "Under no circumstances does  _anyone_  make a noise. Got it?" He whispered urgently as Cas and Jo nodded silently. Dean was grateful for the thick and plentiful green leaves that covered the branches. In the forest outside District 12, Dean and Katniss often had to scale trees to escape predators, so climbing was an involuntary reflex for Dean in times of danger. 

"Well I say that she was alone, and what I say goes."

Ice cold fear flooded Dean's veins when he heard Ruby's voice below them.  _Careers. Why did it have to be fucking careers?_

"Well to be perfectly honest Ruby, I don't give a shit what you say. You saw that cave further back, it would have taken more than one person to make that wall."

Dean's fingers clenched around the branch when he heard Crowley's voice. The comment about the cave terrified him. If they hadn't have gone in search of water, they would probably be dead. Clearly their baracade hadn't fooled anyone. It also meant that there had been another girl tribute living near them, a tribute that could have killed them while they slept.

"Screw you Crowley." Ruby muttered dejectly, but she carried on following him, mumbling angrily to herself.

Dean held his breath, forcing himself to be calm. One look up, and they were all dead. They were close now, Dean could hear twigs and leaves rustling under their feet. The audience would be thrilled. One tribute killed only minutes ago, a showdown to occur in moments. _The tension would be gripping_ Dean thought bitterly. He almost thought they were going to get away with it.

"Wait." Dean heard Alastair pause close to their tree. "Look." He pointed at the ground, showing scuffed footprints amoung the plant debris.

Dean wanted to cry out in frustration. This was it. Only the second day of the Games. He carefully lowered himself to the two adjactent braches Cas and Jo were sitting on. Jo had silent tears running down her cheeks, and was leaning against Cas' shoulder. Cas had his arm around Jo, with his sad, dead eyes trained on Dean. Dean sat opposite them, and offered his hand to Cas, not daring to speak. Cas nodded solemnly and wound his fingers around Dean's. Dean took comfort in those few moments, holding Cas gently, his other hand resting on Jo's shoulder, each of them holding each other up.

"Where do they go?" Ruby asked, the confusion obvious in her voice.

Dean felt Cas squeeze his fingers softly, but Dean didn't take his eyes off Cas' face. He had to memorise every detail.

"They just . . . stop." Alastair mumbled.

Crowley scoffed. "So what, they just sprouted wings and _flew_ away?" The sarcasm dripped off his tone.

"No." Dean heard realisation dawning in Abaddon's voice, who'd been quiet so far. "Thet climbed away."

Dean looked down to see her standing beneath them, her all too red lips curled into a cruel grin. Crowley joined her, a smug smile on his face.

"Hello boys."

 

Anger, fear and grief took turns at tormenting Dean, so it surprised him when his voice came out calm and sarcastic. "With all due respect, Jo here isn't a boy."

Abaddon lifted an eyebrow, shocked at Dean's audacity, but Crowley just laughed. "So she is Winchester, how rude of me." He paced the ground below them. Dean caught a glimpse at the several weapons adorning his belt, and the large pack on his back. "I bet you wished that you'd taken us up on our little deal."

Dean smiled back. "Funny as it sounds Crowley, I'd still rather be where I am now rather than down there with you." He couldn't afford to look at Cas now, he knew it would break his composure. 

Crowley smirked. "Well I'm sure that'll all change when we gut those two little tributes you've got with you and force you to watch." He threatened, the smile never leaving his face.

"You're missing one very important factor in that equation." Dean pointed out.

Crowley raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the banter. "Educate me 12."

"You're down there, and we're up here." Dean knew that it was a pointless bluff, but Cas and Jo were small, and he had been climbing trees for survival ever since he was twelve, so he hoped that none of the careers would be small enough or good enough to reach them. But hope was all he had right now.

Crowley mocked surprise. "Well, we'll just have to do something about that, won't we? Ruby." He called, turning around.

Ruby smiled and moved forward, grabbing the first branch and pulling herself up. Dean broke off a branch above him and passed it to Cas. "You and Jo try to get higher. Go." He hissed before breaking off another stick for himself. Cas seemed reluctant at first, but pulled Jo up with him, going as far as they could. Below, Ruby was placing her weight delicately, and Dean had the sinking feeling that she'd called his bluff. That was, until she misplaced her weight and fell back down, the wind being knocked out of her as she hit the ground.

Crowley sighed impatiently. "Useless really, aren't you dear?"

Dean had no doubt that if Ruby had the ability to speak, she would have shot back some snarky comment, but instead she lay breathless on the ground. 

"Abaddon?" Crowley asked, gesturing to the tree. 

"No." Ruby struggled out, trying to stand again. "No, I can do it." She stood, moving to the branch. Dean knew she wouldn't make the same mistake twice, she was desperate to prove herself to Crowley. She was just about to pull herself up . . .

. . . when an arrow buried itself in her temple.


	8. Chapter 8

**Castiel**

Castiel waited for the anxiety to begin. He waited for the sweaty palms, the pounding in his head, the engulfing blackness. He waited . . . and nothing happened. When the arrow skewered Ruby's head, and her cannon went off, Castiel expected to feel some kind of terror or anxiety, but all he felt was overwhelming relief. But down on the ground, there was chaos.

Crowley had pulled out as many knives as he could hold in one hand, Alastair was backing him with his spear, and Abaddon looked like she was trying to keep the smile off her face.

"Who was that?!" Crowley yelled, finally displaying some kind of fear on his face. "Show yourself."

Abaddon looked bored with the whole situation. "Crowley don't be an idiot. They're not going to come out. They're going to stay hidden and keep picking us off with their arrows. Out best bet is to walk away now before another one of us ends up with an arrow through our brain." She turned on her heel and walked off, not waiting for Crowley or Alastair.

"I'll kill you Winchester. But first, I'll kill those two you've got with you. I'll tie you up and make you watch while I slit your boyfriend's throat and you will know that  _you_ caused his death. And it'll be slow and painful, I can promise you that much." Crowley's voice shook with anger, and his knuckles were white around the handle of his knife. 

Castiel was taken aback by the absolute hatred and fury in Crowley's voice. He glanced down at Dean, who's face was contorted with rage.

"I suggest you leave now Crowley." Dean warned, his voice quaking with anger. 

Crowley pulled his lips back in a cruel smile. "You just wait." He promised, stalking off with Alastair in tow.

Everything was silent for a few moments before Dean started grinning, his anger melting into relief. "You should watch where you point that thing Everdeen."

Castiel followed Dean's eyes to see Katniss emerge from behind a thick tree. Even if Castiel had never been close to Katniss before the Games, he still felt comforted by her presence. And the fact that she'd managed to secure a weapon only made Castiel feel even more hopeful. Katniss moved over to Ruby's corpse to retrieve her arrow. After giving the arrow a quick wipe with Ruby's shirt and placing it back in her quiver, Katniss took the two knives in Ruby's belt and took off her backpack. 

Castiel followed Dean down the tree, helping Jo with the jump to the ground. Within moments, all four were standing together again. Dean stood beside Castiel, their arms barely touching, but it was still enough for them. Subtle and silent, but meaningful.

"We should probably move off before the hovercraft comes to collect her body." Dean pointed out, averting his eyes from Ruby's lifeless form.

Katniss, on the other hand, knelt down beside Ruby, reaching her fingers out to shut her eyes. "I'm sorry." She mumbled softly. "It wasn't your fault." 

Castiel was struck with the guilt he felt for Ruby's death. He hadn't felt the slightest bit of remorse when she had been killed, he'd only been relieved that it wasn't him. But Ruby had been a person, a girl with a long life ahead of her. A girl who didn't deserve to die. She was small and defenceless in death, no resemblance to the loud and cocky career she had once been. Castiel felt a wave of compassion for Katniss, and her small act of defiance. Ruby had been their enemy in life, they'd been taught to hate each other. But Katniss was respecting her memory, and apologising. It bothered Castiel that he had never noticed how beautiful she was. Ruby had been a two dimensional figure in their lives. He wondered what season she liked best, what her favourite colour was, what her favourite food was. The things that made her an individual. The Capitol had twisted her into a murderer, and that was all she would be known for. A statistic in the Games.

Katniss stood, passing Ruby's backpack to Dean, and a knife to both Jo and Castiel. Her eyes were glassy, and Castiel tried to imagine what she was feeling right now. Ruby was probably the first person Katniss had ever killed in her life. In many ways, the Capitol was manipulating her too. But she pushed the feelings of guilt and remourse to the side, only visible in her eyes. "You three need something to eat and drink. Let's go."

 

Castiel stayed close to Dean on the walk to the lake. A cannon went off at some point, and Castiel had felt Dean's hand enclose his wordlessly, both grateful for each other. If Katniss hadn't shown up, things may have ended very differently. Dean could be dead. Jo could be dead. He could be dead. They came to a stop at the lake, and Dean and Jo filled up the water bottles that they had found with the packs, while Katniss and Castiel spread out their supplies to do a head count.

"Who died on the first day?" Castiel asked as he lay out the contents of Ruby's pack.

"Girl from three, both from six, boy from eight, girl from nine, both from ten and girl from eleven." Katniss listed, returning her attention to her own pack, which she was emptying beside Castiel's. "I was lucky to get away. Managed to snag the bow and this pack. God, it was awful in there." 

Castiel wanted to offer her some kind of comfort, but he wasn't sure how. Luckily, Dean and Jo broke the silence. "So what have we got?" Dean asked, sitting down next to Castiel, their legs pressed ever so slightly together. Castiel wondered what Katniss and Jo thought, if they even caught on. Jo obviously knew about it, and Castiel doubted that they were being too subtle for Katniss to notice. 

Katniss gestured to the pile they'd made. "Well, between the two packs we have two reflective sleeping bags, some dried fruit and beef strips, a bottle of iodine, two drink bottles, a large clear strip of plastic, a lighter, two metal bowls, rope and some bandages. In the way of weapons we have the bow and twelve arrows, three knives, two were Ruby's and one was from my pack, and we have this." She pointed to a long, curved blade which resembled a machete. "I just found it in Ruby's pack."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Cool, so the water will be safe to drink in about twenty minutes or so, I don't really remember how long it takes to purify water." He admitted sheepishly. 

Castiel smiled affectionately. He was already falling for every part of Dean. And everything was so much more intense and pressured, because they were living on borrowed time. There were no guarantees. One minute they were side by side, smiling, laughing even; the next they could be dead. Every single second together was precious. And Castiel had never known that he could want someone like this. Living his sheltered life, he didn't realise that people could actually fall for each other so quickly. If their story was being told to him, he wouldn't believe it, because  _how_ could you let yourself love someone when you knew it could only end in tragedy? But the thing was he wasn't 'letting' himself, he was _being_ pulled. 

"Well I don't know about you, but I'm starving." Dean stood, and Castiel couldn't help but be disappointed when he pulled away. "I'm going to check the snares we made on the way up here." He offered his hand out to help Castiel up. "And you're coming with me. Grab a knife and whatever else you need." 

Castiel took Dean's hand gratefully and pulled himself up. Katniss handed Dean the bow and quiver. "Just in case you see anything." 

Castiel grabbed a knife and slid it into his belt. Though he'd been pretty much useless with knives in the training center, having something to defend himself with was comforting.

He and Dean walked in silence for the majority of the walk, pausing only to check for other tributes. Castiel wanted to say something, but he couldn't think of anything. He wanted to know more about Dean, more about his life, but he didn't know how to ask him. Dean was kind and warm, but he wasn't open.

"Dean," Castiel began, searching for the right words. He had so much to ask him, he didn't know where to start. Part of him wanted Dean to open up to him without being provoked, but he doubted Dean would voluntarily give away information.

Dean glanced over at him, his eyes alert and ready to respond to any kind of danger. "Something wrong?" He asked, worry creasing over his face. He reached his hand back, waiting for Castiel to take it. Without hesitating, Castiel placed his hand in Dean's, and let Dean pull him close. They fell into a wordless embrace, Castiel's face buried in Dean's shirt, Dean fingers tracing nonsensical patterns over Castiel's back, soothing him gently. "Hey. It's ok." Dean murmured, pressing his lips into Castiel's hair.

"No, it's not." Castiel looked up at Dean, still holding on to his arms loosely. "Dean, we keep avoiding it, like if we ignore it, it'll go away."

Dean's expression became pained. "Cas, don't-"

"Dean." Castiel took a deep breath. "Dean, I don't have anyone to live for if I go back home." He stated it like it was a fact. He wasn't looking for pity, he was trying to make Dean understand. "You have Sam and Katniss. My brothers, they don't need me. You have to win Dean. We have to face the facts. I will die."

**Dean**

"Shut up Cas." Dean muttered, pulling him close again, hoping to drown out his words. But Cas was persistent. He pushed away again.

"Dean, I've made my choice."

Dean winced. He'd been dreading this moment, the moment they came to terms with their situation. Cas didn't break eye contact, and Dean felt himself drowning in his blue eyes. It wasn't fair. Why did it have to be Cas? Why couldn't he have fallen for someone back home. Why couldn't he have not fallen for anyone. Why did Cas have to walk into his life with his beautiful, broken eyes following Dean's every move. Why did Cas have to be so kind and good. Why couldn't he have been easier to hate, and harder to love.

"Dammit Cas, we can fix this." Dean voice was low, pleading almost. He placed a finger under Cas' chin and tilted his head up, not wanting to miss a moment.

Cas smiled softly, running his hands up Dean's arms to rest on his shoulders. "You can't save everyone." His voice was almost a whisper.

Dean closed his eyes. "I don't want to save everyone." He admitted, moving closer to Cas. "I want to save  _you_."

Cas frowned, and pulled away. "Why?" He asked.

Dean sighed, exasperated. "What do you want me to say Cas?" He let him go, taking a step back. "Why I am getting the feeling that you don't want this?" He knew that he was being unfair on Cas, but he couldn't help it. Cas just wasn't willing to try.

Right now, Cas' face just looked hurt. "Dean, we can't change the Games. It is what it is."

"Destiny?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow. "No, don't give me that shit Cas. Not you." He shook his head.

Cas moved forward, but Dean stepped away from him, ignoring the way his face fell. "I don't understand what you're trying to say Dean." Cas mumbled, looking at his feet.  
Dean ran a hand through his hair. "What I'm saying is, aren't you prepared to fight for what you want?" He asked.

Cas frowned, slowly growing angry. "We're in the Hunger Games Dean! What exactly do you plan to achieve?"

"I don't know!" Dean felt his voice rising. "All I know is that I won't lose you, Katniss and Jo. I just won't. Ok?"

Cas looked like he was about to argue, but Dean rushed forward, gripping Cas' face and crushing his lips down onto Cas'. The kiss was angry, and rough, but underneath it was soft and tender, filled with apologies and things they couldn't say. Dean didn't regret what he had said, but he  _needed_  to make Cas understand. Dean couldn't lose him. He held on to Cas like he might disappear if he let go, like he wasn't real. He could feel Cas start to pull away, but Dean wasn't ready to look back into his eyes and see the pain within. The pain that he had caused. Instead, Dean held Cas tighter, kissing him deeper. After what seemed like a lifetime, Cas finally relented and kissed Dean back, opening his mouth against Dean's. Dean moved his hands from holding on to Cas' face to rest on his hips, pulling him closer.

"Not here Dean." Cas mumbled against Dean's lips as he broke away for a split second.

Dean looked down at Cas, who was frowning slightly with a small smirk playing on his lips. "What?" Dean asked.

Cas shook his head. "Nothing. Just you."

Dean grinned and gave Cas another kiss. "Just me." He repeated softly. 

 

"Well, he died in an explosion, so I had to teach Sam how to hunt. I couldn't do it all on my own." Dean explained to Cas as he reset the snares. Talking about his family hadn't really been the first thing Dean wanted to do, but Cas had asked, and Dean didn't want him to start talking about dying again, so he was happy to provide a distraction.

"Was he a miner?" Cas asked, carrying the two rabbits that the snares had caught. 

Dean nodded. "Yeah, he worked with Katniss' Dad." Dean remembered his father much more clearly than he remembered his mother. His father had been tough and straight forward. After their mother died, John had become cold and distant, throwing himself into his work. Dean had barely seen his father for those seven years after Mary died. He'd never been home. Either working, or spending every spare moment drinking himself to death at Bobby's house. 

"So who looked after you?" Cas asked politely.

"Bobby Singer." Dean smiled halfheartedly. "Bobby was a miner that survived the explosion. He and Dad were never close, but he was a hunter too. He took care of me and Sammy after Dad died. Bobby was Dad's go-to when he couldn't face coming home. He was just never the same after Mom died. He used to go and mope around at Bobby's until he kicked him out and told him to get his sorry ass back home to me and Sam."

"You keep saying 'was'. What happened to Bobby?" Cas didn't know that he was treading on dangerous territory, so Dean didn't get angry with him when he asked.

"Bobby died. His wife, she got some kind of sickness and passed away. After that, Bobby started to drink more. He decided to go hunting one night while he was drunk. Never saw him again." Dean finished resetting the snares and turned to Cas, who was staring at Dean, his head tilted. "What?" Dean asked, suddenly very self conscious.

"You're very brave Dean." Cas said decisively. 

Dean frowned. He had been called smart, caring, funny, strong and determined, but the word brave had never been used to describe him before. Dean could think of a thousand other words he would use before 'brave'. He would use the word 'coward' before he said brave. Nothing he did came down to courage, it came down to instinct, survival and a fair amount of selfishness. He didn't go into the woods hunting because he was brave. He went in there because he was too selfish to imagine Sam dying. But Cas spoke with the same kind of stubborn determination he often saw mimicked on Katniss' face, and he knew better than to argue with him. "Whatever. I just do what has to be done." He was grateful when Cas didn't push the matter any further. "C'mon, let's get back to Jo and Katniss. It's getting dark."

Dean didn't know if it was the Gamemaker's doing or not, but the days did seem shorter in the arena. Or maybe that was just Cas and his uncanny ability to make Dean feel like everything was going ten times faster than it really was, like the irregular beat of his heart. Dean had never really been in any kind of relationship before, except for the bond he had with Katniss, so he wasn't quite sure what he should be feeling when it came to Cas. He liked the way Cas observed him, and smiled at him, and talked to him like they'd known each other for years. He liked the way Cas' hair felt against his fingers, and he liked the way their lips felt pressed together. Dean wondered if that was what it was like for everyone. The only thing he had to compare it to was the way his mother and father had acted around each other. He knew that Mary had always made John happy, and he would always kiss her on the cheek in the morning, every morning, without fail. They would smile around each other, and laugh, and talk. They brought out the best in each other. 

Cas made Dean feel happy. Cas made Dean laugh and smile. But there was something else. A kind of pressure. John and Mary were never pressured. They never had to feel like their love was in danger of being torn away. And yet, it still was. Dean remembered his father's depression so clearly, it hurt. John may have drowned in sorrow and grief, but Dean never blamed him for being unable to provide for their family. Bobby did, but Bobby didn't understand what John was missing. That was, until his own wife died, then Bobby found it easier to die than face the grief. Dean wondered if that was what would happen to him. Cas barely mentioning the prospect of his death had been enough to make Dean panic. He wondered if he would turn out like Bobby and John, so consumed by sorrow that it would be easier to die than continue living without them. 

 

When they arrived back at the lake, Katniss and Jo had packed all of their belongings back into the two packs. Dean had managed to shoot a squirrel on the way back, so it looked as though they would be having a decent dinner that night. Jo had found some tuber-like plants that grew near the bottom of the lake, and Dean had laughed. "Do you think the Gamemakers purposely added katniss plants to their arena because of you?" He asked Katniss, sitting down beside her to skin the rabbits and squirrel.

Katniss smiled softly and elbowed Dean. "At least  _try_ to keep your voice down Winchester, we are in the Hunger Games." She scolded halfheartedly. 

"I wonder what the career's are doing right now." Cas thought outloud.

Jo snorted. "Probably hunting out other tributes before they come back for us."

Dean raised an eyebrow, surprised at Jo's morbidity. "And no more suggestions from Harvelle." He joked, relieved when he saw Jo's face break into an easy laugh.

Starting a fire wasn't Dean's favourite option when it came to cooking the meat, but they didn't have much of a choice. He and Katniss cut the flesh into small cubes, and skewered them on sticks that Cas and Jo had cleaned in the lake. After the fire got hot enough, they let it burn out, cooking the meat in the hot coals and trying to let as little smoke escape as possible. Cas came up with the idea of boiling the katniss tubers in one of their metal bowls after filling the bowl with water from the lake. The water they had purified in the bottles was ready, and they each took turns taking large mouthfuls of water. All in all, it was a surprisingly good meal for the arena. Dean hadn't realised just how hungry and thirsty he was until he started eating, and by the looks on Cas and Jo's face, they were ravenous too.

"Ok," Dean started after finishing his meal. "I vote we go back to the cave. It's nice and warm and sheltered and we have enough people and weapons to keep watch."

Nods of assent followed, and Cas dumped a bowl full of water on the coals, causing steam and smoke to rise. "That should lure people here while we keep moving." He explained.

The walk back to the cave wasn't a particularly long one, but with nigh setting quickly, it made Dean edgy and worried. He found his hand enclosing Cas' of it's own accord. It was unusually familiar and comforting to have Cas beside him. Jo glanced back at one point to glimpse their intertwined hands, and gave them both a small, but knowing smile. 

Once they reached the large wall of boulders they had built up the previous night, Dean felt a wave of nostalgia at the way he and Cas had slept side by side, wrapped in each other's arms. Though Dean had awoken several times that night, the sound of Cas' steady breathing had calmed Dean and allowed him to fall asleep again. He could only hope for the same tonight. But someone had to keep watch, and Dean wasn't tired. 

"I'll go first." He volunteered easily as they entered the cave and settled down for the night. No one moved to protest, though Dean did see that Cas looked vaguely disappointed in the low light. Dean stopped the smirk on his face as Katniss unzipped one of the sleeping bags for her and Jo to share, while Cas crawled into the second one alone. Before Dean walked outside with the bow and arrows, he moved over to Cas and gave him a small kiss on the forehead. "Hey, keep it warm." He murmured softly.

"Ok." Cas breathed softly against Dean's neck before he pulled away.

 

The night air was cool against Dean's skin. It kept him alert and awake. Thoughts clouded his mind, and for the first time since he started the Games, he didn't push them to the side. He let himself feel the tumbling emotions. The fear, the anger, the sadness. He could finally admit to himself just how terrified he was. He'd been so close to dying this morning. If it weren't for Katniss, he would be in a coffin, sent home, buried six feet deep with Sam and Prim standing over his grave. Cas and Jo's bones would be back in District 5. Cas' family believed that souls went to heaven, to enjoy a blissful eternity. Dean liked that idea. He didn't particularly believe it, but he liked it. It must be nice to have that kind of faith. Eternal happiness with all the people you love. Safety. Never being hungry again. Never having to kill. Never having to worry.

"Hey."

Katniss interrupted Dean's thoughts by coming to sit next to him. "Hey. You should probably try to sleep." He offered, knowing that his suggestion wouldn't do any good.

"Can't." Katniss replied simply.

Dean wasn't sure how long he'd been keeping watch, but he guess it was coming close to three hours. He didn't feel very tired, but he knew that he would have no trouble with falling asleep. "How are Cas and Jo?" He asked.

"Asleep." Katniss answered.

Dean snorted to himself. "Are we really into the one word answers tonight?"

"Maybe." A smirk played apon Katniss' face

Dean smiled and looked out into the forest. They sat in silence for a few moments before Katniss spoke. "The thing is, I haven't even talked to him, barely looked at him. But in that one moment in training, he reminded me so much of someone back home, I could hardly bare it."

Dean knew that this wasn't the kind of thing he was supposed to answer. It was one of Katniss' moments when she just let the walls down, and just talked, no matter who was listening. It was one of those moments when Dean was just supposed to sit there and listen to what she had to say.

"I miss everything about home. I know that District 12 wasn't much to be grateful for, but I still miss it. I miss Prim, I miss my mother, I miss Sam and I miss Peeta."

Dean blinked. He'd heard of Peeta before, Katniss had mentioned once about how he'd saved her not long after her father died, but he never realised that she'd cared about him this much. Katniss wasn't one to talk about feelings.

"And it's a little stupid, I know, because I barely see him, but I can't forget him. I can't help but wonder what he thinks about me. He saved me once. I'm in his debt. And Samandriel, he just reminds me of him. I've never even spoken to Samandriel, but I still don't want him to die. I don't want anyone else to die. Not Jo, not Cas, not you, not anyone. When I killed Ruby, I just felt so much  _grief_. I didn't understand at first, but now I get it. The Capitol trains us to believe that this is right, but what would happen if we just . . . stopped? Just didn't kill anyone else. Just joined hands and refused to play their games?"

The Capitol Seal broke Katniss' speech rather ironically. Both Dean and Katniss glanced to the sky as the death toll flashed itself across the sky. First to appear was Ruby, and Dean saw Katniss drop her gaze until her picture disappeared. Next was the boy from seven, Benny. Third and finally was the dark haired girl from eight, Lisa.

"Eleven." Dean spoke quietly, and Katniss nodded. 

"Eleven people Dean. Eleven people who had families and friends and hopes and dreams. Eleven people who probably had people begging for them to come home. People Dean. Children." Katniss wiped tears away from her eyes, and Dean reached his hand out to rest on her shoulder. "Go get some sleep Dean. I won't be tired for a long time, I'll watch."

Dean didn't bother to argue with her, he just handed her the bow and arrows and gave her a small kiss on the forehead before heading into the cave. He crawled around in the darkness, feeling his way over to where Cas lay. Though he felt emotional drained after listening to Katniss pouring her heart out to him, he still couldn't help the fond smile spread across his face as he crawled into the sleeping bag next to Cas.

"Hey." Cas mumbled, his voice heavy with sleep. He turned and enclosed Dean in his warm arms as Dean pressed his forehead to the crook of Cas' neck. 

"I'm so tired Cas."

"I know."


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am so sorry for how long this took, i don't even have any good excuses, but here it is c:

**Castiel**

For three days, Castiel could almost relax. Almost. The three of them fell into a kind of routine. In the morning, Dean and Katniss would hunt, while Jo and Castiel refilled the water and collected edible greens and berries. They were mindless, simple tasks, but Castiel welcomed them with open arms. After they ate something that resembled lunch, Jo and Katniss would go check and reset the snares, while Dean taught Castiel how to use a bow and knives. He particularly looked forward to his archery lessons, however little they actually involved archery.

"That's not fair." Castiel complained lightly as his arrow veered wildly off target, distracted by Dean wrapping his arms around him from behind. This was usually how the lessons wound up, stealing a few more precious seconds before night fell again.

"Hmm?" Dean hummed against the back of Castiel's neck.

"You're unfairly distracting." Castiel sighed, turning around to drape his arms lazily over Dean's shoulders. Dean was wearing one of his stupidly gorgeous grins, which only made it ten times  _more_ unfair that he could distract Castiel the way he did.

"I think I'm adorable."

Castiel smiled fondly and kissed Dean's forehead. "I disagree." They stood in silence for a few seconds, Castiel's eyes roaming over Dean with a kind of sated curiosity. Dean's grin had changed into a small, fond smile. If Dean was a fast flowing river, then Castiel would be a pebble caught in the current. Dean pulled him and pushed him and left him feeling raw and exposed, but Castiel couldn't escape; he was enclosed by him. He was drowning in Dean. And he couldn't stop himself. Maybe Castiel was the one who threw himself into the river. He knew the dangers, he knew the risk, but he still let himself fall head first into the water. He only wished that he was strong enough to sink to the bottom. Because Dean was an unstoppable force that payed no attention to danger or consequences. Dean was relentless and utterly destructive.

And now he was being pulled by Dean, in a way that could only end in agony. Falling for Dean came with a high price, because only one of them could live. And the current was so strong, that it was more likely that they would both be thrown over the edge of the cliff before they learnt to swim. 

"How did this happen?" Castiel asked, his fingers resting on Dean's cheeks, his thumbs brushing against his cheekbones. 

Dean's fingertips lazily trailed patterns along Castiel's spine. His touch burned it's way into Castiel's skin, and he wondered if Dean felt the same. "Well, quite easily really." Dean admitted, his light eyes not leaving Castiel's face. "I saw you, and I wanted you. I wanted to know more about you. I wanted to feel your fingers on my skin. I wanted to kiss you."

Dean stated each sentence like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and Castiel felt his heart swell.

"Why?" 

Dean shrugged, his hands gliding down Castiel's side and coming to rest on his hips. "That's like asking why the sky is blue. It's just the way it is. I guess you can't choose when it comes to the people you want."

Castiel smiled and traced his fingers along Dean's jaw, the thin layer of stubble rough against his fingertips. He wondered what it would feel like against his lips. "Do you think there's another world out there? I mean multiple worlds, multiple realities, where there are different situations? Worlds where there are no Games."

"I don't know. I'd still rather be here, with you." Dean murmured, his face edging closer.

Warmth spilled across Castiel's cheeks. "But here, it's like we're cursed. In other places we could be safe. We could live."

Dean's arms tightened around Castiel. "I'd still rather have you, cursed or not."

Castiel waited for Dean to discount the statement by adding some stupid joke, but he didn't. "Oh." Castiel couldn't think of anything that represented intelligence. Fortunately,

Dean broke the silence. "Do you smell that?"

For a split second, Castiel wanted to roll his eyes, until he realised what Dean was talking about. "Is that-"

"Smoke." Dean pointed above the trees, only twenty meters away. At first, Cas assumed that another tribute had lit a fire, until he saw flames begin to curl through the trees, moving closer to them. Panic seized his throat, this was no ordinary fire, this was something made by the Gamemakers. He could only form one coherent thought.

"Run."

 

The arena had turned into a world of smoke and flames. The heat was suffocating. The sun was blocked by smoke. It was impossible to see more than five feet ahead. Each breath burned. Castiel flinched every time a stick or thin branch whipped his face, but he couldn't stop. He could feel the small cuts on his face, and knew that they would sting soon, but adrenaline blocked out most of the pain. Most. He could hear the sparks and snapping of branches behind him as the fire consumed them. The smoke was making it difficult to think, but he pushed on, his lunch threatening to make a reappearance. A large branch snapped behind him, and a shower of sparks exploded behind his back.

Castiel didn't have time to squash the flames forming on his jacket, so he simply ripped it off and threw it behind him. His legs were beginning to ache with exertion, and Castiel could feel himself dropping behind.  _Run_. The word was on a constant loop in Castiel's head, like he could forget. The forest seemed even more unfamiliar, like it was trying to trip them up with every step they took. Castiel wondered if that was the smoke making his mind hazy, or if the Gamemakers were purposefully making it difficult. He focused on Dean's feet ahead of him, and tried to ignore the taste of ash in his mouth. 

Fire doesn't burn, it consumes. The world seemed to disappear behind Castiel's feet as he ran away from the wall of flames. He doubted that he would feel anything if the fire caught up to him, it would just vaporize him. But the flames seemed to be slowing. Hurdling over a fallen log, Castiel collapsed into a heap, his body close to giving up.  
"Cas! Get up!" Dean yelled, his voice sounding like his vocal chords had been doused in acid.

Castiel pulled himself up, struggling to his feet.

"Cas, there's a lake close, now move!"

With the final amount of energy he could draw, Castiel ran after Dean, his legs aching with a kind of fatigue he didn't know existed. The fire was coming close to his heels now, and he could feel the back of his neck burning and blistering. Almost seamlessly, Dean's hand enclosed his, and pulled him ahead, trying to leave the fire behind. Castiel could see the lake now, and it gave him the smallest amount of energy he had left. He was all too aware of the pounding of his heart, the burning pain on the back of his neck, and the suffocating thickness of the smoke in his lungs. Black spots danced across his vision, and Castiel could feel Dean stumble against him. They were both going to lose it soon, they couldn't go on for much longer.  _It wouldn't even hurt. Here one moment, gone the next. It would give the crowd something to watch at least, and it may call off the fire. It may keep Dean safe for just a while longer._  The booming sound of a cannon drew Castiel back to his senses. Was it Jo, or Katniss? Would the fire stop now?

With a less than graceful jump, Dean and Castiel plunged themselves into the lake. Cold seized Castiel's limbs, but it soothed the dull burn on the back of his neck. Breaking the surface, Castiel glanced around. The fire had stopped a few meters back, like it was cut of by some invisible force. Obviously the Gamemakers had grown tired of the chase. Castiel looked over at Dean. His usually light hair had been turned dark brown after being drenched by water. His eyes were wide and alert, but some kind of manic grin was spread across his face. "We're alive."

A small laugh bubbled from somewhere deep in Castiel's chest. "Yeah, we're alive."

Dean dived under the water and appeared only centimeters from Castiel's face, kissing him within an inch of his life. It was a victorious, urgent kind of kiss, not the tender and gentle ones Castiel was used to. It was crushing, breath being stolen from his lips. And Dean was cupping his face, holding him there. Castiel moved in accord, wrapping his legs around Dean's waist under the water and bracing his hands on Dean's shoulders. 

"We're alive." Dean repeated quietly against Castiel's lips, water dripping from their hair between them.

"Let's keep it that way." Castiel murmured, placing a small kiss on Dean's forehead. The joking tone from only seconds ago was gone, replaced by the crushing reality. "Do you think Katniss and Jo-"

Dean shrugged. "We'll just have to wait and see."

Castiel nodded, pulling Dean closer so that they were wrapped in an embrace that was both warm and cold at the same time. There was nothing particularly romantic about the gesture, but it was comforting for Castiel, to have another body pressed against his. It was comforting because of the knowledge that Dean could just as easily slit his throat, or snap his neck. But he didn't. Instead of killing him, Dean had kissed him, and that continued to surprise Castiel. 

_I guess you can't choose when it comes to the people you want._

 

After taking stock of what they had been able to run away with on their backs, and once the fire had completely retreated, Castiel floated on his back in the lake. It had been a long time since he had been swimming, and he enjoyed the feeling of water enclosing him. It was calming. During the lead up to the Games, Castiel had felt anxiety attacks come on nearly every day, but since he got into the arena, he had never even felt close to one. It was odd, because the arena should have been the place where he would break down the most, but his brain had been running on pure adrenaline and fear, it didn't leave any  _time_ for anxiety.

Castiel wanted to get moving, and go and find Katniss and Jo, but Dean had warned him about the dangers of retreating. The forest would be burned down to a skeleton and people would be scattering though the trees, their cover long gone. And chances were, Jo and Katniss would return yet, they would be following the same train of thought as Dean. So instead, Castiel focused on cleaning his clothes.

He hadn't exactly been comfortable with the idea of stripping down to his underwear in front of Dean, but Dean had made a point of looking away, unable to keep the smirk off his face. Now, Castiel's clothes were spread out over the rocks drying, and Castiel was refusing to leave the water just to shiver on the bank. He'd handed over the bow and quiver to Dean, which he had been lucky enough to keep a hold of while he was running. 

"What would you do if someone came across you like this?" Dean asked, the grin obvious in his voice.

Castiel closed his eyes and raised his middle finger in Dean's general direction, which earned him a barking laugh in response. 

"I mean, I think it's a good look. Maybe you should just walk around like that from now on, just forget the whole idea of 'clothes'."

"Ha ha." Sarcasm basically dripped from Castiel's voice. "You're an idiot."

Mock hurt played over Dean's face. "And you're rude."

Castiel shrugged as best as he could while floating on his back. After a few moments of peaceful silence, Castiel looked around. "Where are we?" He asked, curiosity creeping into his voice.

Dean glanced through the trees. "Not sure. I'm guessing we're a lot closer to the Cornucopia. That was the direction we ran in."

Castiel nodded slowly.  After a few more minutes of aimless floating, he moved out of the water and pulled on his mostly dry clothes. After a cautious glance back at the forest they'd ran through, Castiel turned to Dean. "Are we going to go find them now?"

Dean stood, throwing the backpack over one shoulder, the quiver over the other. As he stood, a cannon went off, causing an uneasy silence to fall across them. Cas cast a nervous glance at Dean, who's face remained emotionless.

"Let's go." 

**Dean**

Dean didn't like dealing with emotions at the best of times, even less while he was trapped in an arena fighting to save people he loved. When Dean tried to simplify it, he always ended up factoring in dangerous feelings. Sam was the only one that mattered, and when Dean thought of it like that, it was easy to block everything else out. But then there was Katniss, his best friend, someone who had saved him countless times back in twelve. Someone who he loved. His sister. Then there was Jo. Young, innocent, intelligent Jo. Someone who didn't deserve to die. Someone who was just too  _happy_   to die. And finally, there was Cas. If Dean was logical about the whole situation, Cas should mean nothing to him. Cas should be just another tribute to kill. But he wasn't. Cas was soft, and kind, and quiet, and thoughtful. Cas was oddly beautiful and interesting. And Dean really did like kissing him.

So Dean stopped trying to simplify it, because the Games weren't simple.

The trees looked like charred skeletons bursting from the ground. The ash still hadn't settled, so the air looked like it was filled with a thick mist, followed by the bitter aftertaste of smoke. Whenever Dean blinked, flames etched themselves onto the back of his eyelids. Images of the fire towering behind him, burning his grandparents house down, flickering over Katniss' dress. Katniss had been dubbed the 'girl on fire', but Dean couldn't help but think that he was the one being chased by flames. 

"So how many are left?" Cas asked at one point, glancing around the empty forest.

The bareness of the arena made Dean uncomfortable, so he was grateful for conversation; even if it did involve the subject of death. "Not sure. Last I counted, there were thirteen alive, but that was last night."

"So there was the one cannon we heard just after we left the lake-"

"And who knows if there were any during the fire." Dean finished. The roar of the flames and the pounding of Dean's own heart had been enough to drown out any other noise, so there was no way he would have heard a cannon if one went off while they were running.

Like usual, the walk to the cave was calming and quiet. Though the blackened forest threw off Dean's sense of direction slightly, the path was still familiar enough for him to find his way back. What he didn't count on, was that someone may have been waiting for him.

"Get down!" Dean hissed quietly, dropping down in some smoking debris. He heard Cas follow suit behind him, crouching behind a fallen tree trunk.

"They'll be here soon, don't worry about it."

"Abaddon is going to kill you when she finds out."

"Maybe I'll kill her first. It's about time we started to weed out our group."

"Crowley, this is suicide. It's four against two."

"Actually, it's two against two. The only ones we have to worry about are the two from twelve. I don't want them to die first though. We're going to give the audience a show. First, I'll take that Winchester boy down with some knives to his legs so he can't run away. Then I'll tie him to a tree, and make him watch as I carve my name into his boyfriend's stomach. You'll take care of the girls. I don't care how you do it, but the other two are mine."

Dean felt Cas shrink down beside him. He glanced over at Cas, who was shaking slightly, but still had a look of determination on his face. Dean weighed up the situation. He still had the bow, and he could probably get close enough to get a clear shot at one of them, but that would give him and Cas away. He could leave Cas here waiting for a few minutes while he took out the careers, but that would risk him being spotted before he had time to line up the shot. And who knew where Abaddon was. From the tone of their conversation, Abaddon had no idea that Crowley and Alastair were hunting them down, but she could go looking for them and turn up any minute. Abaddon was smart, she would know exactly what Crowley wanted to do. If Dean were to do anything, he would have to move quickly.

Dean was about to take a shot at Crowley when the mood changed. He couldn't hear what Crowley said to Alastair, but the two dropped down from the top of the rocks and hid behind them. When Dean finally worked out what was happening, it was too late. Crowley tackled Katniss, forcing her to the ground, while Alastair grabbed a screaming Jo, and tied her hands together quickly and deftly, tying the other end of the rope to a branch above their heads. Katniss tried to fight back, reaching for the knife in her boot, but Crowley knocked her hand away, easily overpowering her. 

"Don't try anything Everdeen, or we'll kill her!" Crowley growled, motioning to Jo.

Katniss stilled beneath Crowley, glaring at him. "Dean's coming. He'll be here any second. He'll kill you." She said, her voice venomous.

Crowley laughed. "Let him come, that's what we want. Hear that Dean?!" Crowley yelled. "We've got your little friends! Come and get us!"

"Wait here." Dean whispered urgently to Cas, who looked like he was about to protest. "Please Cas, don't make me lose you too. If I die-"

"Don't." Cas cut him off, kissing Dean's forehead softly. "Don't die."

Dean nodded stupidly, handing Cas the backpack. "There's food, a few weapons, water-"

"Stop talking like you're not coming back."

Dean was struck. The memory of the Reaping flashed into his mind, when Sam said the exact same thing to him before the Peacekeepers dragged him away. That was the last time Dean thought he would ever see his brother. And now, Cas was repeating those words back to him. Was this the last time he would ever see Cas? Dean lent forward and kissed Cas quickly. "I'll come back."

Cas smiled halfheartedly. "I know."

With a last glance at Cas, Dean stood, moving as far away from Cas as he could, so Crowley wouldn't go after him. He'd barely moved a few meters before Crowley spotted him.

"Decided to join the party Winchester?" He mocked, standing up and pulling Katniss with him, holding her own knife at her throat.

Dean strung an arrow and aimed it at Crowley. "If you leave now, I won't hurt you."

Crowley threw his head back and laughed. "You're at a distinct disadvantage here Winchester, it's two against one." He glanced around. "Where's your little pet? Castiel or something."

Dean swallowed heavily and said the first thing that came to his head. "Dead. The fire got him." It would be safer for Cas if Crowley assumed he was dead. Of course, it would only last until tonight when the death toll was displayed in the sky and Cas' name would be missing, but the more time Dean could give him, the better.

"What a shame, I wanted to have the honor." Crowley drawled. "Now how about you be a good boy, put your weapons down, and come and let us kill you?"

Dean smirked. "Nah."

"Nah?" Crowley demanded. "Well that's not the answer we were looking for. I guess we'll have to speed things along then."

 

Suddenly, everything happened at once. Alastair plunged a knife deep into Jo's abdomen. Before Dean knew what he was doing, he let the arrow fly, hitting Alastair point blank in the chest. Katniss brought her heel up and kicked Crowley between his legs, catching him off guard, she spun around and knocked her knife out of his hand, punching him in the nose. She scrambled to pick up her knife, but Crowley was already running. Dean tried to hit him, but his head was still spinning, and his aim was off. The arrow missed, and Crowley escaped. Katniss ran over to Jo, cutting away the rope and desperately trying to stop the flow of blood with her hands. Dean didn't know why he felt so nauseous, but he felt the world tilting, like he was going to fall over. Cas had moved from where he was hiding, and was now trying to help Jo with Katniss.

"DEAN!" Katniss screamed, breaking Dean out of his trance. Blinking furiously, Dean ran down beside Jo. She was breathing heavily, gasping in ragged and uneven breaths.

Someone had pulled the knife out of her stomach, and blood was gushing from the wound. Katniss was trying desperately to stop the flow with her hands, which were covered in blood. Cas held Jo's hand, murmuring things in her ear.

"You'll be ok, Katniss has it under control, keep breathing Jo. You'll be fine. You'll go home. You'll see your mother again. It'll be fine, it'll be ok. Keep breathing Jo. Keep breathing."

Dean knew that nothing would save Jo now. The wound was beyond anyone's medical knowledge. A cannon went off, and Dean knew that Alastair was now dead. He glanced back at Jo, hoping she wasn't in too much pain. Her eyes were fluttering, her chest rising and falling sparodically. "Cas?" She breathed, her lips turning red with blood as she coughed violently.

"I'm here Jo, it's okay. Shhhh. I've got you, you'll be fine. It's gonna be ok."

"It-t . . . it h-hurt-t-ts-s." Jo managed, tears forming in her eyes. "It hu-ur-r-rts Cas."

"I'm sorry Jo." Cas said, his voice thick. "I'm so, so sorry." Tears fell from Cas' face and landed on Jo's shirt.

Katniss choked back a ragged sob as she gave up on trying to stop the bleeding. "It won't stop." She cried. "I'm sorry Jo, I can't stop it."

Jo smiled softly. "S'okay." She mumbled, her voice small. She looked so tiny, curled up, barely breathing. She was so young. Her eyelids were drooping, fluttering shut. Dean remembered the way she'd wormed her way into their lives. He remembered her laugh, her grin. The way she joked easily with everyone. Her eagerness to be friends. Had he really only known her for three weeks; it felt like years. 

Her breathing grew shallow, and her forehead creased as she struggled to draw each breath. Small, choking sounds omitted from her mouth, and her grip tightened around Cas' hand. 

"It's ok Jo, we're here. It's ok. It's ok. It's ok." Cas chanted even after Jo's hand went limp and her breathing stopped altogether.

A cannon stopped Cas' rambling, and he closed his eyes, resting his forehead to Jo's. Katniss turned away, unable to look anymore. She picked up the knife that had been used to kill Jo, and threw it as far away from them as she could. "This is your fault!" She turned to Dean, pushing him backwards. "If I had the bow I could have saved her!"

Dean knew that Katniss wasn't really angry with him, she was angry with the Capitol, and Crowley, and Alastair. Instead of yelling back at her, or backing away, Dean reached out and pulled her close against his chest, smoothing down her hair. She struggled for a while, pounding her fists against his chest, but eventually she slumped against him, sobbing.

"It's not fair." She cried, trying to stop her sobbing.

"I know."

 

After the hovercraft came to collect the bodies of Jo and Alastair, Dean, Cas and Katniss left the cave. After Jo's death, and the fire, it didn't feel as safe as it once had. It felt more like a prison. They left the part of the forest which had been devoured by flames, and instead decided to make something that resembled a shelter in the thick undergrowth of a undamaged part of the forest. Dean and Cas worked quickly and easily to cut off large, leafy branches, and brace them between two trunks. With the extra rope they had gained from Alastair, they pulled together a pretty decent shelter between two thick trees. Cas gathered leaves that were larger than his hand and spread them across the floor of their shelter. Nobody spoke. Nobody ate. Dean could barely stomach himself, and he wondered idly how Cas could stand to be around him. Killing someone came with guilt and self-loathing. Dean hadn't thought about it when Katniss had killed Ruby, but now he knew how she had felt. While he hadn't figured it out at the time, the nausea and dizzyness were him reacting to ending Alastair's life. 

After passing around the water bottle and eating a few strips or dried meat and berries, night fell. 

"I'll take first watch." Dean offered quietly.

Cas looked up at him and nodded slightly, but Katniss didn't answer. She just stared into the distance, her eyes dead. Dean moved over and gave her a kiss on the forehead (which she didn't respond to) before moving out of the shelter, letting them get some rest.

Now that he sat in a tree above the shelter, absent-mindedly rolling an arrow between his fingers, Dean regretted taking first watch. He was tired, but his mind was running on some source of energy Dean didn't know he possessed. And all it did was turn over images of Jo drowning in her blood, and Alastair falling to the ground with an arrow wedged in his chest. How he couldn't do anything to save Jo, and he did everything he could to end Alastair's life. 

Jo was dead. And any one of them could be next.

Swallowing hard, Dean started to speak. "Haymitch, I know we didn't talk much before the Games, but . . . I need your help." He felt stupid, talking to himself on the off chance that Haymitch was listening. "I don't know what you can do, but whatever it is, please save him. Please. Save Katniss too. Save my brother. Just, just don't let anyone else die. Please. I just, I just can't watch him die. So if there is anything, anything at all that you can do, please do it. Please save us."


	10. Chapter 10

**Dean**

"Happy birthday Dean." Mary woke her eldest son with a kiss on the forehead. Dean blinked his eyes open, looking up at his mother. A grin broke across his face, crinkling his light green eyes. His resemblance to Mary was striking at times. Though their eyes and hair were different colours, it was more their mannerisms that were similar. Dean had his mother's grin, her laugh, the way she tilted her head to the side when she smiled. It wasn't much, but it was these little things that made Dean and Mary so alike.

As the two made their way into the kitchen, they were assaulted by a variety of colours and smells. Mary had taken to the kitchen with a paintbrush earlier in the month, inspired by the colours of the flowers in the meadow. No one had batted an eyelid when she painted the cabinet doors bright yellow like the daffodils outside. John had come home from working in the mines that evening. At one sight of the bright yellow, he had burst out laughing and pulled Mary into a playful embrace.  As for the smell, Dean could only guess that Mary had been baking some kind of special birthday breakfast for him. Something that involved the dried herbs that her father had given them.

Sam was already awake and sitting at the dining room table. Even though Sam was young, his hair was growing at an unnatural rate, almost longer than Dean's. Dean took a seat at the table next to him. "Hey Sammy." He cooed, poking his brother lightly on the nose. Sam laughed, trying to push Dean's hand away with his still chubby fingers. Dean smiled and poked Sam's nose again.

"Hey little man." John greeted Dean from behind, ruffling his unruly light brown hair. "Eight years old, nearly an adult. Maybe you should come to work with me, start providing for the family." John teased lightly, a grin on his face. 

Dean poked his tongue out at his father, who laughed in response. Giving Mary a kiss on the cheek, he headed out the door. "When I get back, we should go and dinner with your parents, they'd like that."

Mary smiled back at John. "Sounds like a plan."

Dean glanced around his family. They weren't rich, they weren't poor, but they were happy. Dean was only eight, he didn't really understand what the world was about, but he could still tell that their life was pretty ok. For now.

 

"Dean, look." Mary smiled softly from across the lounge. Sam was curled up in her arms, dead to the world. Mary's parents were in the kitchen with John, helping to tidy up the dinner dishes. Dean loved going to visit his grandparents. His grandfather could be gruff and grumpy sometimes, but whenever he was around Dean and Sam, he softened up considerably and let them sit on the couch with him while he told them stories about his old adventures in the wood. Samuel Campbell used to be a hunter, before arthritis seized his hands and knees, and his age finally caught up to him. Deanna and Samuel were probably the oldest couple in all of District 12. People didn't tend to live past sixty in the district, and Samuel had recently turned sixty one. 

Mary stood, Sam limp in her arms. "Come on, let's go put your brother to bed."

Dean followed his mother to the spare room that he and Sam slept in when he stayed at their grandparents. Pictures he and Sam had drawn decorated the otherwise empty walls, and a few small children's toys lay scattered on the floor. 

"Goodnight Sammy." Dean mumbled, giving his brother a small hug as Mary tucked him in. 

Sam stirred a little, before his head lolled back on the pillow and he began to snore softly.

Mary led Dean to the next room down the hall and repeated the process, tucking her son into bed. "I hope you had a good birthday Dean."

Dean remembered the new set of clothes he had received from his parents, and the miniature bow and arrow set his grandfather had crafted for him, even though his grandmother had scolded him, and Mary had rolled her eyes. According to Samuel, you were never too young to learn how to defend yourself. "I did. It was the best ever."

Mary smiled fondly and kissed her son on the forehead. "Have a good sleep Dean."

 

 

* * *

 

Everything was different. Katniss spent an entire day after Jo died lying in a ball in their hut. It didn't bother anyone, Dean and Cas did fine on their own. Dean let Katniss grieve, because he knew that losing Jo was so hauntingly similar to the way Prim could have died if Katniss didn't volunteer for her. Instead, he focused on the mundane tasks of hunting, cooking, and then spending the rest of the time hating himself. Dean was pushing Cas away, and he could tell how much it hurt him, but he couldn't find it in him to care. He just added it to the long list of reasons why he hated himself.

There were only eight tributes left, Abaddon, Crowley, both from four, Cas, the boy from nine that Katniss had mentioned; Samandriel, Dean and Katniss. Three had died in the fire, and, of course, Jo and Alastair had died afterwards. They had been in the arena for a week, and two thirds of the tributes were dead. Dean guessed that this realisation was supposed to gain some sort of reaction from him, but it didn't. Because these people, they were just faces. Just names Dean hadn't bothered to learn. Except for Jo. Kind, energetic, sweet, young Jo. Her death seemed so unreal. Every so often, Dean would see a curtain of blonde hair out of the corner of his eye, and whip around, expecting to see her smiling, or hear her laugh. He was probably going insane after being locked inside the arena for too long, with the prospect of his death hanging over him like an hourglass, sand measuring the remaining seconds of his life. Something told him that there wasn't much sand left.

"Ok, talk to me."

Dean looked up to see Cas with his hands on his hips, knife abandoned at his feet. It had been exactly two days after Jo died, and Cas was coping better than Katniss and Dean combined. Dean found that odd, because Cas had known Jo better than all of them. He was moving with a new kind of purpose. 

"What is there to talk about?" It came out sharper, and more bitter than Dean intended, and he tried to ignore the flash of hurt in Cas' eyes. He was getting better at ignoring things he didn't want to see. 

Cas looked down for a split second, but then his face hardened and he looked back up. "About how you feel. About why you're pushing me away."

"You want to talk about my feelings?" Dean scoffed. He didn't know why he was being so horrible, but it was easier than opening up and telling Cas what he was really afraid of. 

Cas sat down beside him on the rock. They had been gathering katniss tubers that seemed to grow infinitely in the ponds. A long running joke with the Gamemakers. "If that's what you want." He offered softly.

And that just made it worse. Because Cas was too soft and kind where Dean was just cold and harsh. He didn't deserve Cas, not by a long shot. "Well it's not." It is, but I'm afraid. "So you can go back and try to talk to Katniss about her feelings. Maybe she'll open up and you can cry together." I don't mean this. I'm so sorry. "I'm going to try to survive." I'm going to try to get you to survive.

Cas stood abruptly, scowling. "Is this a common thing for you Dean? Pushing people away? Because if it is, I'm going to take a knife, take a full backpack, and leave."

Dean blinked in shock. That had been the last thing he had expected to come out of Cas' mouth, and now he was desperately afraid that Cas may be true to his word. "Don't be stupid." Dean dismissed him.

Cas looked like he was brimming with anger. Before Dean knew what was happening, Cas had lashed out, his fist connecting with Dean's jaw. It wasn't a particularly hard punch, and it didn't hurt Dean, but the shock made Dean recoil. Cas' eyes were filled with rage, enough to make Dean want to reach out and apologise. 

"Fuck you Dean Winchester." Castiel hissed, before turning on his heel and walking away.

 

 

* * *

 

"It'll be ok Sammy. You'll see." Dean promised as he led Sam into their home, the day after the fire. Their home, which had once seemed so warm and welcoming with Mary's laugh and energy, was dull and cold, like all the happiness had died along with their mother.

John was at work, refusing to take a day off to deal with his loss. Dean and Sam were left alone in the house to try to adjust. Sam hadn't spoken a word since last night. Leaving Sam to do what he wanted, Dean walked down the thin hallway into his parent's room. John's room. It was exactly how Mary had left it before they had left for Samuel and Deanna's, corners of the sheets tucked in just so, their wedding photo tilted slightly towards Mary's pillow. Dean crawled up onto the bed, tucking himself into a ball, and letting the scent of his mother lull him to sleep.

Dean didn't know he was asleep until he woke up, tears fresh on his face. A warm pressure against his stomach made him look down, only to see Sam curled up against him, his still-soft toddler hair brushing against his nose. Sam's breathing was slow and heavy, enough to make the tears, Dean didn't even know he'd been crying, stop.

John arrived him much later than his shift ended, and Dean could smell the alcohol on him, but he put on a forced smile. "How was work Dad?"

John didn't reply, he just slumped into an armchair, staring at the wall. His brown eyes were unfocused, like he was seeing something that wasn't really there. Probably Mary's ghost.

"Do you want some dinner?" Dean had cooked the last fish they'd had. He knew he and John would have to go hunting soon, but he didn't mention it to his father. 

"She was going to paint these walls." John mumbled, so low Dean almost didn't hear him. "She was going to buy some more paint and really make a masterpiece. And she always smelt like cinnamon. How could that be Dean? There was no way we could have afforded cinnamon, yet she always smelt like it. Cinnamon and rosemary. And she was warm, and kind. I never once heard her say a bad word about anyone. Never. So that begs the question, why her? Why did she have to die?"

Dean knew that this was the kind of question he wasn't supposed to answer. Like when Mary used to mumble 'why?' whenever she watched the Hunger Games. 

John turned to look at Dean. Suddenly, Dean felt like he needed to give an answer, like he needed to give a reason for why this terrible, awful thing had happened to him. Instead, John spoke softly. "You look like her, with your light eyes and light hair. But most of all, it's your smile." John reached forward, like he was trying to touch Dean's lips. "You smile like her."

 

"Just sit still. It'll be over soon."

Dean sat quietly on a chair in the kitchen, while John stood behind him, wielding a pair of scissors. Sam was standing somewhere to the left, with a scowl on his face. Dean didn't dare turn his head to look, not while John was holding a particularly sharp object in his hands. Within seconds, Dean could see small chunks of his hair falling in front of his eyes and to the ground, like golden snowflakes. It was choppy, and uneven, and Dean almost wanted to cry.

"It was about time you got a haircut." John muttered in his gravely voice. "I'll have to do Sam's too soon."

But Dean knew that he would never cut Sam's hair, because he didn't have a problem with it. It was Dean's light hair that he had a problem with. Hair that he'd inherited from Mary. John wanted it gone.

"There, all done."

Dean ran a hand over his head. It was rough, uneven, and felt prickly under his fingers. Dean's face crumpled.

"What are you crying about?" John demanded.

With a small sniff, Dean looked at the ground. "Mom liked it longer." 

 

**Castiel**

 

Fuck Dean.

That was the only thought that wasn't completely incoherent with rage in Castiel's head as he stalked back through the forest, his feet deliberately snapping every single twig he could find. It was childish and pathetic, and a bit of a liability at this point of the games, but he didn't care. He was just so  _angry_. Angry that Dean could toss him away like he was a piece of trash stuck on his shoe. Like the days they had spent together meant nothing to him. Angry that he had cared more than Dean had.

He didn't make it back to their camp before he sunk to his knees. Holding his arms around his chest, Castiel broke down. It wasn't just Dean, it was everything that had happened to Castiel. Everything. Even his childhood which was barely holding together in him memories. It was cracked with imperfections. Cracked with the handful of anxiety attacks. Cracked with his 'perfect' family. Cracked with the fighting. So damaged, Gabriel and Lucifer could barely hold it together. Even through all of the good memories, there was one that rang louder than the others.

_"Castiel's broken!"_

Jo. Now Jo entered his mind. Her tiny form, curled defensively around the knife that ended her life. Her eyes, wet with tears. Blood seeping through her shirt, staining her stomach in a large red flower. Her smile, her laugh. She was twelve, not even a teenager. She had a mother. Castiel knew who she was too. It had never occurred to him before she died, but there was a small memory, holed up somewhere in the depths of his mind. A motherly brown haired woman. Loud voice, but small smile. Pinched, like every time it rose, it brought unwelcome memories. Jo had a mother. 

The sobs had changed into shivers, and Castiel could feel his stomach go cold. _No, not here. I'll die._ But the anxiety was swallowing him, rising like steel poison through his veins. It sent his heart beating in his throat, his vision blurring to black. Breathing. Breathing was important, but how did it work? _You killed her._ Black spots dancing at the edge of his eyes, taunting him. Gasping, Castiel clutched his chest, only to feel the rapid, uneven hammering of his own heart. _Crowley would never have come looking for her if it weren't for you._ A static roar louder than anything Castiel had ever heard before rose in his ears, cutting out every other sound, isolating him from the world around him, trapping him in his mind. Alone with his grief, his guilt.  _She's dead because of you._ Breathe. Sweaty palms, cold fire burning in his stomach, buzzing thoughts. He was going numb, not longer able to feel the ground beneath him. Falling. The darkness consuming him.  _"Castiel's broken!"_ The roar so loud, it threatened to burst his eardrums and splinter his mind. Not that his mind wasn't already damaged beyond repair. Broken. Broken. Broken.

 

 

* * *

 

"Do you think they'll be fighting for long?" Castiel asked his older brother, staring intently at his hands, like they held the answers to all of life's questions.

Gabriel shrugged. He had stopped growing now, but Lucifer showed no signs of stopping any time soon. Gabriel knew that he was going to be short, but it didn't bother him. "Not sure. I don't think Mom's that angry, I just think she's tired."

Gabriel had never hid the truth from Castiel, and this was no exception. But Castiel preferred it like that. "Tired of what?" Castiel asked, already fearing the answer. He'd woken up sometimes during the night to find his mother crying at the dining table, her face buried in her hands. Every time, Castiel had wanted to go and comfort her, but he was unsure how.

"Dad lying and being away all the time."

Castiel nodded and looked back at his hands. "There was a boy at school, Zachariah. His parents got a divorce, but since his Dad worked in the Turbines, he didn't get much, and his Mom kept most of the money, so Zachariah doesn't see his father much anymore." He took a deep breath. "Do you think our parents will get a divorce?" The word had bothered Castiel ever since he'd heard Zachariah mention it. He was terrified of his parents doing the same thing, and him never seeing Naomi ever again, and being forced to live with Michael, and his strict rules.

"Nah, they do love each other, I think." Gabriel tagged on the last two words in an afterthought, considering his answer carefully. "I think Mom brings out the best in Dad, he'd be lost without her."

Michael didn't seem to need anyone in his life, but Castiel smiled softly, his fears slightly decreased. "Good."

 

 

* * *

 

"-told you. I just found him like this."

Castiel's head throbbed, and his chest hurt, but at least he could breathe. He didn't try to open his eyes just yet though, the light would be blinding.

"You're lucky he wasn't killed!" That was Katniss. She was hissing at the first voice.

"Lucky?" Dean. Castiel felt involuntary warmth flow through his body, before he remembered that he was angry with Dean, and the warmth was replaced with ice cold hurt.

"How could you let him go away on his own?"

"I-" Dean broke off, and Castiel could heard the emotion breaking his voice. "I didn't know how to stop him.

"Bullshit." Katniss scoffed, her cool fingers pressing against Castiel's forehead, and gently pushing his hair back. She exhaled softly, a sound of relief. "He's cooled down a bit." The touch was soft, tender even. It surprised Castiel that Katniss cared, but it wasn't unwelcome.

He felt movement to his left, confirming Dean's position. Suddenly, he noticed the warm pressure enclosing his hand. Dean's hand. He was holding him. Dean gave Castiel's hand a light squeeze. "Good. When do you think he'll wake up?"

"I'm not a doctor Dean."

Castiel let his eyelids flutter open, immediately shutting them after the afternoon light threatened to burn out his pupils. Trying again, Castiel opened his eyes, Dean's face looming over him the first thing to come into focus. Not a bad first sight. "You brought me here?" It was less of a question, more of a statement of disbelief. Castiel was all too aware of how raw his throat was.

"Hey, shhhh." Dean pressed his other hand to Castiel's shoulder, rubbing it gently. It was soothing, and Castiel let him. Partly because he was too tired to fight, but mostly because he craved Dean's touch too much. "It's ok, you're ok now."

"Dean, I-"

"I'm sorry Cas." Dean cut him off. "I'm so, so sorry. But please, don't do that ever again."

Cas smiled softly. "Fine, but you're not allowed to be a dick ever again."

A laugh escaped Dean, which sounded like more of a relieved sob. "Ok Cas, I promise."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to apologise in advance for this chapter. I am so so sorry.
> 
> Also, just so you know, they layout is a bit different and it switches from Dean to Cas' POV quite quickly.

**Castiel**

  
It rained like it was never going to stop. For one whole day, they could not leave their shelter for fear of being swept away. If a cannon went off during this time, there was no way they would have heard it over the roar of the downpour. They were running out of food, all they had were the cold katniss tubers and whatever edible greens were in arms reach of their hut. And it was cold. All three of them tried to squeeze into one sleeping bag to conserve heat.

It took just two days of the cold and wet for Dean to get sick.

It started so slowly, Castiel didn't realise what was happening. Dean acted as normal as possible under the circumstances, but his face grew gaunt and pale. His hands developed a tremor, and he complained of a headache.

"Dean, you're on fire!" Katniss exclaimed, pressing the back of her hand to Dean's forehead.

Dean smiled weakly. "I thought that was your job." He attempted to joke, his shivering and the sheen of sweat on his forehead making Cas ignore his flippant attitude.

When he refused to eat a tiny supper, Castiel knew there was something very wrong. Letting Dean curl up and try to get some sleep, he spoke to Katniss in a hushed voice. "He's got a fever." He told her urgently.

Katniss' gray eyes flashed with worry, but she kept her face calm. "How do we fix it?" She asked, her voice hard with determination.

"My brother Lucifer used to get fevers all the time, but we used a small white pill to bring him back under control. The most important thing is to keep him hydrated, I think." Castiel desperately tried to remember how Naomi used to take care of the boys whenever they were sick. "And a fever can mean a few things. It could be the flu, or pneumonia, or any kind of infection really. The body heats up to try and kill the infection, but it can kill you too."

Katniss nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "My mother was a kind of doctor in the Seam. Fevers were common in the winter."

Castiel was surprised that Katniss willingly told him about her life. She was quiet and tough, and she never wasted words. "Right now, there's not much was can do. We'll just have to hope for the storm to pass. If he starts to hallucinate, then we'll know it's bad."

"What then?" Katniss asked in a hushed voice.

Castiel didn't answer. If Dean's fever did get worse, and if it showed no signs of slowing down, there wasn't anything they could do. If it was being caused by the flu, it also meant that he and Katniss were in danger of falling ill too.

Katniss glanced over at Dean's sleeping form, and swallowed a lump in her throat. "He's not going to die."

Castiel looked up at her, really looked at her. She had this beautiful kind of conviction that you could see in the stormy gray of her eyes, in the way she angled her jaw high and straightened her back. She was an archer, and when she was sure of something, she moved into a posture similar to the way she would shoot an arrow.

"I know."

 

Dean shivered in his sleep.

Castiel sat next to Katniss while she attempted to gain a few hours rest. Her dark hair was braided back out of her face, and she curled herself slightly, like she was holding someone in her arms. Castiel wondered idly if that was how she slept at home, with her younger sister curled into her side; or if it was a habit she had picked up when Jo was alive.

Castiel moved his glance from Katniss to Dean, who was wrapped in a tight ball, shoulders trembling. Tentatively, Castiel reached a hand out. When his fingers came into contact with Dean's forehead, he stifled a gasp. If it was even possible, Dean's temperature had risen. Castiel let his hand linger on Dean's forehead in a desperate attempt to cool him down. Moving his hand until his palm rested on Dean's forehead, Castiel wound his fingers in Dean's short hair. "You and your big stupid heart." He murmured quietly.

Dean's eyelids fluttered lightly, but he didn't wake. As he slept, Cas could see just how sick he really was. Not only was he shivering and sweating with a pale and gaunt face, but his breath was uneven and strained. Even in sleep, his face was twisted in pain, lines creased into his forehead.

"Oh _Dean_." Cas felt like he was about to burst into tears. He felt so helpless. Striping off his jacket, Castiel removed his shirt. The initial shock of the cold and wet when he stepped outside almost made him want to go back in, almost. Once his shirt was thoroughly soaked in rain water, he wrung it out and brought it back inside.

As he pressed the cold ball of fabric to Dean's forehead, Dean's eyes flew open in shock. His face relaxed when he saw Castiel looking down at him, sans shirt. "It's a good look." He stuttered between his shivering.

Castiel smiled as best as he could as he remembered the last time Dean had said those words to him. When he was somewhat naked in a lake. "Are you ok?"

"I feel like shit." Dean admitted, smiling weakly.

Castiel barely had enough time to drag Dean outside before the vomiting started. Castiel let Dean lean against him behind a tree as Cas held his jacket over Dean, keeping him dry. After he was finished, Dean fell against Cas, his strength gone.

"I'm sorry Cas, I'm so so sorry."

"Shhh." Castiel took Dean back inside, and helped him back into the sleeping bag.

"Lie with me?" Dean asked, his eyes pleading.

Castiel nodded. "Of course." He slid in beside Dean, wrapping his arms around Dean's shuddering frame and resting his chin on top of Dean's head. He was so warm, too warm.

"I'm cold Cas."

Castiel choked back a sob. "Dean, you're burning up." He knew it was no use, Dean wouldn't be able to tell anyway.

"Once, I took Sam hunting, and we came across a dog. There are so many wild dogs in the forest. But this one was hurt, and it was whining for help. It had probably scared off all of the game, but that didn't matter. The dog was scared too. By the look of it, it had broken its leg. But you know how when you come across something that you should be afraid of, but it isn't a threat, so you just feel pity? That's how I felt when I saw you. I wanted to take care of you, hold you close and fix you after you had that anxiety attack in the training center. But I realised something. How can you fix someone, if you're so broken yourself? Like with the dog. Sam and I were too hungry and weak to pass up the fresh meat. So I killed the dog. I killed Alastair too, but I looked into his eyes as he died. I keep telling myself that it was his life or ours, but that's not true is it? I could have just shot him in the leg and he and Crowley would have ran away, but I killed him. I wasn't starving when I killed the dog, so it wasn't necessary, but I did it anyway."

Dean was babbling, not entirely making sense, but Cas listened, holding him tighter.

"What I'm trying to say, Cas, is that, no matter how bad it gets, no matter how desperate I become, no matter how close I am to dying, I will never hurt you. I promise."

Cas closed his eyes and pressed a kiss into Dean's damp hair. "I know Dean. I know." He let out a shuddering sob. "I will never hurt you either."

 

The weather got better, but Dean got worse. Castiel knew that he should have dried Dean off better before putting him back to sleep, but Dean had been so weak and tired. He refused to leave Dean's side all day, helping him sit, coaxing him to eat a little bit of food, while Katniss hunted. Castiel knew that it was hard for her to see Dean like this, and it was better for her to be out hunting rather than worrying.

Dean started to talk to himself on the third day of his illness, and it scared Castiel more than anything else he had seen in the arena. Sometimes Dean would wake up screaming, and there was nothing Cas could to but hold him until the hallucinations passed. He was just getting hotter and hotter. There was something unnatural about the disease, it was moving too quickly. Both Cas and Katniss had seen nothing like it. Cas wondered if somehow the Gamemakers had placed the bacteria in a specific food Dean had eaten in the arena.

Katniss was skinning a rabbit and Castiel was lying with Dean when the announcement came. Dean wasn't feeling as bad, so Cas helped him outside. An announcement during the middle of the day meant that something big was happening.

The voice of Claudius Templesmith, who Cas had become all too familiar with over the past few weeks, filled the arena after the Capitol Seal. "Greetings tributes." He announced in a cheery voice that Katniss snorted at. He went on to invite the tributes to a feast at the Cornucopia.

"Forget it." Katniss said to no one in particular. "We're fine now that the rain's stopped. All of the animals are coming out too, so they're easy pickings."

Dean let his head lull against Castiel's shoulder, seeming to be drifting off.

As if Claudius heard Katniss' dismissal, he continued. "Now hold on. Some of you may already be declining my invitation. But this is no ordinary feast. Each of you needs something desperately. Each of you will find that something in a backpack, marked with your district number, at the Cornucopia at dawn. Think hard about refusing to show up. For some of you, this will be your last chance."

Castiel turned to look at Katniss, who met his eyes with elated excitement. Dean's medicine. It would be in one of the backpacks.

Dean pieced the invitation together slower than Cas and Katniss. His eyebrows creased together as he repeated the words under his breath. Suddenly, realisation dawned upon his features. "No, no, no, no, you two can't be seriously thinking about this."

"I'm not thinking about it. I'm definitely doing it." Cas dismissed Dean quickly.

Katniss nodded beside him. "There's no argument here Dean. You'd do the same for us."

Dean scowled, knowing that Katniss had a point. "Cas, please."

Castiel shook his head and held Dean tighter. "We're going to help you Dean, we're going to help you get better."

 

**Dean**

Everything was gray.

Dean never got sick, he just didn't. Even in the particularly harsh winters back in 12, when he had to nurse Sam in his bed, with medicine given to them from Katniss' mother, Dean still never got sick. He didn't get sick when his hunting boots filled with water in the middle of winter, and he had to walk for four hours with soaking socks. He didn't get sick when Sam sneezed and coughed on him. He didn't get sick when a virus spread around the Seam, claiming dozens of children and teenagers. He didn't get sick when he and Katniss shared a bad rabbit when there was nothing else to eat.

But he was very sick now.

Time didn't have meaning to Dean, everything was a cold throbbing in his head. He was always cold, always. And whenever Cas took him outside so he could vomit, Dean thought that rain was ice bullets pelting down on him. Cas was warm, and Dean found it hard to be without him. That was when the hallucinations started, terrifying images in his head whenever he fell asleep. Cas being torn from his arms and killed by faceless monsters. It was hard to tell whether he was awake or asleep when the images haunted him either way.

The idea of food and eating repelled him, yet he still felt hungry. Nothing would stay down though, and after every meal, however small, Cas would have to rush him back outside again before the vomiting started. Before long, Dean was just reaching up acid that burned his throat.

But Dean still couldn't let Katniss or Cas put themselves in so much danger for him. "This is stupid." He protested as Cas wrapped him up in the sleeping bag. He tried to resist, but his vision was going fuzzy and gray, and he was getting colder. He hated feeling so weak.

Cas kissed him lightly, his lips cool against Dean's burning forehead. How was it that Dean could feel both frozen and burning at the same time. "You won't even notice that I'm gone."

Dean scowled. "That's a lie, and we both know it."

Cas grinned, like he didn't have a care in the world. Like he wasn't about to go attend a feast that could cost him his life. "It'll be fine, besides, I have Katniss beside me."

Dean frowned and lifted his head to look in Katniss' general area. Even the small movement of turning sent his head spinning and his vision blurring. "You're both going."

Katniss smirked. "Do you need someone to protect you Dean?"

Dean snorted and lay back down, ignoring the protests from his body. He needed to cough, badly, but he knew that all he would cough up would be blood. "I'll be fine. All I need is rest." Rest. Sleep that offered no release.

"Try to sleep." Cas mumbled softly. "We'll be back before you know it."

 

**Castiel**

Castiel didn't want to leave Dean. Seeing him curled up with his cheeks flushed, shuddering in the sleeping bag, made Cas just want to stay with him.

"Cas." Katniss warned gently. "It's time to go."

Castiel nodded and stood up, leaving two knives next to Dean's bedside, just in case they weren't back in time. Or if they never came back. Castiel was confident though. Aside from Crowley and Abaddon, he doubted that anyone else was working in a group. That meant that she could stay back in the forest with her bow, while Castiel ran for the packs.

They walked in silence, Katniss wringing her hands around the neck of her bow, occasionally twisting an arrow in her quiver, a nervous habit. Castiel checked the knife and machete on his belt several times, but mostly his mind drifted to Dean. He had no doubt in his mind that Dean would die if they didn't get the medicine. Castiel suspected pneumonia was what was causing Dean's fevers, hallucinations, and vomiting. He'd only ever heard of pneumonia once before, and that was when Gabriel told him about one of the workers in the turbines who couldn't afford health care. He had died within two weeks, his family at his side.

But Dean's case of pneumonia moved unnaturally fast. Of course, the wet weather and lack of medicine didn't help, but Cas was almost certain that this illness had been tampered with by the Gamemakers. Adding bacteria to a few of the katniss tubers. They probably weren't even targeting Dean specifically, they were just looking for ways to move things along, make the Games exciting.

There is nothing worse in the Capitol than boring television.

They stopped just as it became to dark to see. Katniss had brought a backpack with a meager dinner and the second sleeping bag. With her help, Castiel scaled the nearest tree, and they strapped the sleeping bag to a thick branch. At first, it seemed as though the both of them squeezing into one sleeping bag was going to be awkward, but as night set, so did the cold. Before long, they were both pressed together, conserving their heat.

"He'll be ok." Katniss murmured, her head resting on Castiel's shoulder, nothing particularly romantic about the action.

"I know."

 

**Dean**

Dean didn't know that he had actually drifted off until he opened his eyes. The hut was dark, but he could still see the two knives that Cas and Katniss must have laid out for him, just in case. It was eerily quiet, not even a whisper of winds rustling the wind outside. No bugs or animals made a noise. It was as if the whole forest was hushed, ready to watch the feast.

Dean could basically hear his heartbeat throbbing in his ears. His head felt clouded, and he could feel an unpleasant build up in his chest. He hadn't eaten anything all day, even though Cas had pleaded, so his stomach wasn't heaving like usual, but his throat was burning from the acid in his stomach. His temperature was unnaturally high, and it scared him.

"Please be safe you two. Please."

 

**Castiel**

Castiel had barely slept when Katniss was waking him, shaking his shoulder gently. "It's time to go Cas."

They wrapped up the sleeping bag and put it back in the backpack. The climb down the tree was difficult for Castiel, with his sleep drugged mind and heavy feet. But as soon as his feet hit the ground, he felt a renewed sense of energy. The promise of Dean's cure giving him a kind of stamina he didn't know that he possessed.

Light was barely starting to break in the arena when they arrived at the fringe of the forest bordering the Cornucopia. Castiel knew that the other tributes would be gathering around the edge of the forest like they were, and the feeling unnerved him. Five other tributes hidden behind the trees, ready to kill at a moments notice.

"Cas." Katniss spoke softly, not meeting Castiel's eyes. "If we can help it, can we please try . . . not to kill anyone?"

Castiel smiled slightly, remembering his father's last words to him. It seemed like so many years ago. He could barely remember the person he had once been in District 5. The boy who kissed Anna Milton died sometime in the past few days. He absently wondered what his family would think of him. Would Gabriel hae come back home to watch the Games? Were they surprised at how far they had made it? With an important event like this feast, school would be closed, and work would be stalled temporarily. Castiel couldn't remember the last time someone from District 5 made it to the top ten. They were a small district, hardly ever having victors. 

"Ok." Cas answered.

To his surprise, Katniss reached forward and pulled him into a tight hug. Another inexplicable act of kindness from her. Castiel was starting to wonder if Katniss was a lot more complex than he'd first given her credit for.

Almost silently, a perfectly circle table rose from the ground in from of the horn as the first rays of sunlight hit its golden surface. Castiel was stunned for a few seconds as he saw a girl with wild brown hair snag the backpack with a '4' written on it, and disappear into the forest.

"Go!" Katniss hissed, whacking Cas on his arm.

Castiel sprang forward, running as fast as he could for the table. He was fast, but Abaddon was faster. They both bolted, not sparing a glance in any other direction than that of the backpacks in front of them. Abaddons fingers closed around the long thin pack marked with a '12', and spun, connecting the side of the backpack with Castiel's head, and knocking him to the ground. Castiel landed on his back, the air being knocked out of his chest. Before he knew what was happening, Abaddon was pinning his down with her legs. 

"I wonder what your gift could be?" She taunted softly, dangling four backpacks over Castiel's face. 1, 2, 5 and 12. 

Castiel writhed underneath her, struggling to grab his knife, but she just tutted gently.

"Now now Castiel, we're going to have some fun first."

Castiel wondered if Abaddon had received some red lipstick from a sponsor, or if her lips were just naturally that bright. Maybe she drunk the blood of her victims. 

She opened the side of her jacket to reveal a large collection of knives. "Which one would you prefer?" Abaddon asked, her voice having a singing kind of quality. Her red hair was a fiery halo around her head. An angel of destruction. 

"Screw you." Castiel spat.

Throwing her head back, Abaddon laughed. "Where's your little friends? Oh wait, I forgot, we killed them."

Cas bared his teeth at her, which caused her to laugh again.

"Do you think Crowley and I really didn't know where you three were hiding? After we killed the little blonde one, we kept an eye on you. Crowley's gone to finish that little boyfriend of yours, and the girl won't be too far behind."

"You'll never find Dean." Castiel growled. "He's out there with Katniss right now, coming to hunt you down and  _end_ you."

"Then let's leave him a little message." Abaddon selected a cruelly curved blade. "Let's begin, shall we?"

 

**Dean**

**  
**Dean knew that he was dying.

Obviously, the feeling was new to him, but he still knew. The thundering of his heart in his ears was much too loud, and he could finally feel just how hot his body really was. It felt like he was being buried alive in hot coals.

"Hurry up Dean." Cas came into his vision, looming over him with a cruel grin on his face. "Hurry up and die."

Dean closed his eyes and turned his head away, fighting the hysteria rising under his skin. "Don't you say that to me Cas, not you."

Cas sighed dramatically and sat down beside Dean. "You didn't mean jack shit to me really. You were just another fun way to pass the time." He picked uninterestedly at his nails, like he didn't have a care in the world. Dean wanted to scream.

"Where's Katniss?"

Cas grinned, Dean's words finally catching his full attention. "Now  _that_ was a work of art." His blue eyes were cold and detatched, and Dean couldn't recognise them. "She was so niave, so trusting. Don't worry, I made sure that her death was quick and almost painless." Dean bit back a sob as Cas continued. "The others were easy kills after that. They were all blinded with desperatness for those packs that they barely saw my arrows coming. The girl from four, straight through the temple. Boy from nine, right in the heart. Now it's just you and me Dean-o, you and me in the final showdown."

"You promised." Dean whispered.

"What was that?"

"You promised!" Dean screamed. "You promised me that you would never hurt me."

Cas shrugged. "Welcome to the real world Dean, people lie. Your father lied to you all those years ago too. He promised that he would look after you and Sam. Katniss lied, she said that she would look after that little brother of yours if anything happened to you. People  _lie._ "

"So this is it then?" Dean asked. "You're going to kill me."

Cas arched an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that be a little . . . redundant? You're so close to dying all on your own. And besides, you entertain me too, with those vivid emotions of yours. I bet you thought I was in love with you." He laughed. It was a long, bitter laugh that cut Dean to his core.

"Please Cas, please." Dean begged, feeing the beats of his heart slow. "This isn't you."

Cas smiled in mock sympathy. "Sorry Dean. Looks like Sammy doesn't have long to live after all. Actually, I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry at all."

Dean closed his eyes, lying his head back. "Kill me." He murmured. "Kill me and end this."

Cas stood, drawing his knife from his belt, an odd smile playing upon his lips. "As you wish."


	12. Chapter 12

**Castiel**

One minute she was there, the next she wasn't.

Castiel had been waiting for the blade of the knife to enter his skin, and then Abaddon's weight disappeared. He lifted his head, wondering if the Gamemakers had added some new toy to play with them. Instead, he saw Abaddon staggering backwards, knife clutched in her hand. Katniss was approaching, arrow already strung. Her face was fuming. She moved forward, and time didn't seem to matter. It was just them, just the three of them. Abaddon, her red curls framing her face, eyes wild and angry, lips pulled back over her teeth in an animalistic growl. Katniss, her face as hard as stone, illuminated by the rising sun, her fingers curled around the bowstring.

"I will kill you." Katniss' voice was so cold and detached, Castiel almost didn't recognize it. "I will send this arrow straight through your goddamn  _heart_  if you don't drop our backpacks  _now_." She kept moving forward. "Just try me. Please give me a reason to end your life."

“We’re going to win.” Abaddon growled, her voice sounding animalistic. “We’re going to kill every last one of you. We’re going to catch you. We’re going to make you cry and scream until we slice your throat.” Abaddon glanced between Katniss and the backpacks. Castiel could almost see her mind working it out. Was it worth it? She twisted the knife in her other hand. Castiel had seen her throw knives at training. He stumbled to his feet, walking backwards to stand beside Katniss. She ignored him.

"I am giving you one last chance. Drop them. Or I will take them all from your dead hands."

There were a few seconds of rigid silence, so much that Cas thought he could slice through the tension with a knife. For a fleeting moment, Castiel thought Abaddon was going to turn and run. Her feet shuffled and she eyed the two of them, assessing the best way to take them down. Just as Katniss aligned the bow with her chest, Abaddon threw two packs forward.

"Take them. I'll still hunt you down and skin you either way."

When it became clear that Katniss wasn't going to, Castiel reached forward and grabbed the packs, relief flooding every part of him. 

“I suggest you run.” Katniss said with a cold determination, like Abaddon’s words had no effect on her. “Or I swear on my life, I will send this arrow through your head.”

Abaddon laughed. “Do it. You’re no better than me, so it’s about time you stopped acting like it.”

Swallowing hard, Castiel glanced over at Katniss. Her face was smooth and expressionless, betraying nothing, but her fingers quivered slightly, loosening on the arrow. “That’s what she wants.” Castiel hissed. “You are better than her Katniss, you are.”

“No.” Katniss closed her eyes. “I’m not.”

Abaddon sensed the arrow flying the exact same time Katniss released it. She turned her body so the head missed her chest, but she wasn’t fast enough. She screamed in fury and pain as the arrow lodged itself in her shoulder, just above her collarbone. Without wasting another second, she spun on her heel and ran.

“Let’s go!” Katniss yelled at Castiel.

Castiel was still frozen, finding it difficult to process what happened. But when he thought of Dean, helpless and dying back at the shelter, his mind spurred into action, and he took off after Katniss.

Every step he took through the dense undergrowth of the forest felt like a heartbeat. Dean’s heartbeat, slowly counting out the number of seconds Dean had left. Cas tried to move faster, pushing himself, reminded that Dean could be dying as they ran.

Castiel reached the shelter only seconds before Katniss, rushing inside. Dean was lying on his side, his breathing shallow and laboured, like his throat was closing up on him. His body was jerking, spasms passing through him quickly. Castiel knew he didn’t have long.

He grabbed the pack marked ‘12’ from Katniss, which was long and thin. Extra arrows were all that greeted him when he unzipped it. Castiel’s face creased in confusion. “No, no this isn’t what we needed!” He cried in desperation. He sifted through the arrows, hoping to find a hidden syringe or packet of pills.

“Cas.” Katniss murmured gently.

Castiel turned to face her. In her hands, she was holding a glass syringe delicately, like she might break it just by breathing on it.

“Where did you get that?” Castiel asked, taking it from her with the same carefulness. He lined the needle up with Dean’s arm, praying to whoever was listening that he got it in the right place.

“Your pack.” Katniss said as Castiel injected the needle and pushed down the plunger. Within a twenty seconds, Dean’s spasms stopped, and Castiel was almost sure that he had killed him. But then he breathing quieted, and his body relaxed, uncoiling from how tense he was before.

“My pack.” Castiel repeated, eyebrows creased. _Something you need desperately_. Claudius Templesmith’s words repeated themselves in Cas’s head. He hadn’t noticed it, but Katniss’s arrow supply was wilting. She needed the arrows desperately so that she could keep hunting, keep protecting herself. But Castiel didn’t need anything desperately. Nothing except, except for Dean.

He brushed Dean’s hair off of his forehead, testing how hot it was. Even though they had only just injected Dean with the medicine, his temperature was declining rapidly. Castiel idly wondered what it must be like in the Capitol. Never worrying about illness, hunger, pain. Living a life of luxury, being served ignorance and lies in exchange for the lives of the people in the districts, just because you were fortunate enough to be born into their world. Castiel had experienced a taste of that life when he was staying in the training centre. A life where food appeared at the touch of a button and showers never ran out of hot water.

He had never been poor. His home was the closest thing to the Capitol that District 5 had, aside from the Milton’s house. He may never have missed a meal, but life still wasn’t easy. When you’re privileged in a place filled with those who are not, nobody cares that you didn’t ask for it. All they see is what they don’t have, and what you do have. And Castiel’s didn’t fault anyone for that. If anything, he agreed with them. It wasn’t fair that he was able to live comfortably while people around him starved to death. But he couldn’t change it, and beating him up wasn’t going to solve anything.

 

_“You’re a loser, Novak.”_

_The kick caught Castiel square between his shoulder blades, pain blooming behind the skin. He would have to try even harder to hide that bruise from his mother. He curled into a ball, hoping that it would make the boys leave him alone. It didn’t._

_“How come you get those fancy clothes, and we don’t?” A boy called Zachariah sneered as he lay another kick, this time, dangerously close to Castiel’s head. Castiel cried out in pain as one of Zachariah’s friends, Bartholomew, lifted Castiel up under his arms, and held him in front of Zachariah and Virgil, so that they could access his face and chest easier._

_“You’re so weird, Novak.” Zachariah accentuated every word with a punch, varying from Castiel’s stomach, to his nose. “Do you even have any friends?”_

_Castiel let his head drop, not wanting Zachariah to see his eyes, or the tears._

_“Oh, what’s that?” Zachariah tilted Castiel’s head up. “Is Novak crying?” He laughed bitterly. “You don’t have any friends, do you?” He laughed again. “Oh that’s hilarious. If you weren’t so different, I’d probably feel sorry for you.”_

_They were down a back alley, a shortcut Castiel usually took to get home quicker. Clearly, Zachariah had been paying attention. The three had ambushed Castiel with no warning._

_“If you just stood up for yourself, you wouldn’t get picked on so much.” Zachariah said disinterestedly while Virgil took his turn at laying punches into Castiel’s face. “Oh, what’s that? Do you need some of your daddy’s bodyguards to stand up for you?”_

_“I’m sorry.” Castiel mumbled, wincing when his top lip came into contact with his split bottom lip._

_Zachariah blinked, clearly taken aback by Castiel’s apology. Even Virgil stopped punching and let his hands rest at his sides._

_“_ You’re _sorry?” Zachariah asked, motioning to Bartholomew, who dropped Castiel down into the dust. “For God’s sake Novak, you don’t even know how to get beat up properly. Let’s go.” His voice was filled with disgust, and he gave Castiel’s legs a kick for good measure as he left._

 

Castiel refused to sleep until Dean woke up. No matter how much Katniss pleaded, or how hard the desire to close his eyes fought, Cas kept a silent vigil beside Dean. Besides, he needed to get some things ready. Dean would be thirsty and hungry when he woke up, due to the fact that he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in about twenty four hours.

Katniss was curled up on the other side of the hut, already fast asleep, so Castiel sat near Dean’s chest, running his fingers through his short brown hair, tracing the freckles on his face with light fingertips, letting his fingers linger over Dean’s mouth, checking for his warm breath.

“I can’t believe you.” Cas mumbled quietly. “I’m sensible, I’m reasonable, why would I have to fall for some idiot from District 12? I’ve been watching the games for sixteen years. I know how they work. I _know_ that we can’t both live. I know that you have your brother, and Katniss has her sister. I know that you have people waiting for you back home. I know that I can’t get in the way of that. I’m sorry for all of that, and yet . . .” Cas swallowed hard.

“And yet I just _can’t_ leave you. If I was a halfway decent person, I would walk out into the open and take Abaddon and Crowley down. I would die in the process. I would make it easier on you. I would save you the weight of burden. I would save you the knowledge that, if it came down to you and me, you would have to kill me. But I’m not a decent person. I’m selfish, I’m horrible, and I just can’t stop wanting you. You’re a fucking drug. And I don’t want to die.” As soon as he said it, Castiel realised how true it was.

“I don’t want to die, Dean. As soon as my name was drawn at the Reaping, I knew that I didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell at winning. And I accepted that. I knew I would die. And then I met Jo.” Even her name made Cas stop, his voice thick. “And I thought, ‘she deserves to live’. So I dedicated my life to that. I thought that maybe, if both of us fought hard enough, we could get her through. And then you came along. With your green eyes, and your smile, and that guarded kindness that you fought so hard to keep under control. And suddenly, it wasn’t just about Jo and I anymore. It was about this whole fucked up freakshow. It was you, and Katniss, and Jo, and Ruby, and Crowley and every single other person who is living in agony, or died in agony, just because we live in a world where life isn’t a right, it’s a fucking privilege. You have to earn your life. You have to fight for it. You have to grab it with both hands, and wrestle it away from the Capitol. And I was okay with letting my life be owned. I didn’t care. But then I met you and Jo and Katniss who have always had to fight so desperately just to live, and now I see why. When there is a point of living, life has so much more worth.”

Cas finished his speech with a long breath out between his teeth. He had exhausted himself by pushing all of the words out of him as fast as he could, like keeping them inside was causing him physical pain. He had no doubt that whatever cameras were near him when he started had shut themselves off after his voice had become strained and angry.

Castiel’s eyesight was so blurred with tears that he almost didn’t notice Dean’s eyelashes fluttering. Almost. Castiel began to grin when he saw Dean’s fingers twitch, and before long, Dean was blinking himself awake. Castiel could barely control himself as he moved back to give Dean some room to wake up.

For a few seconds, Dean’s eyes were filled with panic and fear, and his legs thrashed in the claustrophobic confines of the sleeping bag.

“Dean, it’s ok, it’s ok!” Cas rushed forward to unzip the sleeping bag and allow Dean some room.

Immediately, Dean shrunk away from Castiel’s touch and pulled himself into a sitting position. “Don’t touch me.” He growled through gritted teeth. “Don’t you dare touch me.”

 

**Dean**

 

Dean didn’t know what he was doing, but he fumbled around blindly for a weapon, holding out one of their knives in front of him, forcing Cas back. He tried to ignore the hurt, betrayed look on Cas’s face, and reminded himself that Cas had killed Katniss, and would have killed Dean.

“Dean, what’s wrong, why are y-”

“Shut up!” Dean cut Cas off with something that was a half scream, half cry. “Just shut up!” He closed his eyes tight, trying to make sense of everything. A rustling started behind him, and Dean spun around, pressing the blade of the knife to the neck of his attacker.

Katniss gasped in shock and fear, but didn’t move, knowing that if she did, the blade would open the skin of her neck. “Don’t move, Cas.” She mumbled, trying to move her neck as little as possible.

Dean backed away in fear, dropping the knife down beside him. “What’s going on!” He yelled, curling his hands into fists and covering his ears. His last memory was Cas looming over him with a knife, and then everything went black. Now Katniss was here, alive, and Cas was the one afraid of Dean.

“You.” Dean accused, pointing at Cas. “You tried to kill me. You killed Katniss.” As he was saying the words, Dean was doubting himself. Obviously, Katniss wasn’t dead, and Cas didn’t have a knife anywhere near him.

“You were sick, Dean.” Katniss explained in a calm voice she usually reserved for comforting animals that were injured, before she delivered their death. “You got a fever, you started hallucinating. Cas saved you. He gave you a cure.”

“The feast.” Dean mumbled, looking down and screwing up his eyes, trying to make sense of his mixed memories. “You went to a feast.”

Katniss smiled. “Yes, we went to a feast. We got you your medicine. You’re ok now, the fever’s gone.”

Dean nodded slowly, turning to look over at Cas’s face. Now that he thought about it, the memories from the hallucinations were slightly, shining, like they had been tampered with. Now, Cas looked normal. Scared, but normal. Dean wondered just how much of his sickness had been tampered with by the Capitol.

“I’m sorry Cas.”

Cas still looked like he was in pain. “You hallucinated about me _killing_ you?” He asked, his voice betraying how hurt he felt.

“I’m sorry Cas.” Dean repeated, moving close to embrace him.

Cas placed both of his hands on Dean’s cheeks, forcing Dean to look him in the eyes. “I would _never_ hurt you. I promised you that Dean, and I meant it.”

Not wanting to meet Cas’s gaze anymore, Dean buried his face in Cas’s shoulder. He sighed in relief when he felt Cas’s arms wrap around his back, tentative at first, but then so grateful for the warmth, and the reassurance that Dean was safe.

 

Katniss went out to hunt while Cas nursed Dean back to health with generous amounts of water, and most of the food they had left. Part of Dean knew that it was necessary, and another part of him wondered if this was Katniss giving them space. He suspected the latter of the two.

“The medicine came in your pack?” Dean raised an eyebrow as Cas handed him a purified water bottle. “Why?”

Cas looked up at him with an incredulous look on his face. “You honestly don’t know why?” When Dean shook his head, Cas laughed in disbelief. “You are much more naive than I gave you credit for, Dean Winchester.”

Dean smiled slightly, but caught Cas’s chin with his fingers when Cas tried to look away. “Talk to me.”

Trying to deflect from having to explain himself, Cas smirked. “A few minutes ago, you were convince that I was trying to kill you.”

Dean knew he was only trying to avoid the topic, but the remark still hurt. He knew it was unfair to blame Cas for something that happened in a fever induced hallucination, but some part of him held on to the terror he had felt when he thought that Cas was going to hurt him. Dean didn’t let go, he just keep looking at Cas, smiling slightly. There was no way he was going to get out of it _that_ easily.

Finally, Cas sighed. “There’s nothing else I need desperately to survive Dean. Nothing except you. I even made some big dramatic speech about it all while you were recovering. The truth is Dean, every moment since I was born has been, ‘I’ll just stick it out until-’. Like when I got chosen at the Reaping. It was, I’ll just stick it out until Jo is safe. And then I met you, I’ll just stick it out until Dean can get home to Sam. But now there are feelings, and complicated things that I don’t want to face. There are only so many of us left Dean, and only one can come out.”

Dean knew he had opened a barricade of things Cas had kept to himself, but he didn’t interrupt. He just listened as Cas let it all out.

Cas’s hands were trembling, and he kept glancing at Dean, making sure that he was being understood.“If I was a better person, I would leave. I would go die and let you win. That would be the good thing to do, the selfless thing to do. But I can’t Dean. I can’t do it. But I also can’t handle you dying. It scares me Dean, I’m so scared. I-”

Dean cut Cas off by pulling him close and crushing their lips together forcefully, like he was trying to show Cas how much he meant to him only with the press of his lips, the only language Dean understood. And Cas responded desperately, clamouring to press his hands to Dean, to memorise his body. The hinge of his jaw, the feeling of his hair, the slope of his back. And Dean savoured each touch, curling his fingers around the back of Cas’s neck. He knew that this was just a temporary distraction. He knew that Cas was right, but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. So instead, he kissed Cas like the world was ending, because for them, it almost was.

“You are not selfish.” Dean whispered against Cas’s lips as they both breathed heavily, breathing each other’s air.

“I don’t care whether I am or not anymore.” Cas admitted, placing a small kiss on the edge of Dean’s top lip. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Dean smiled and pulled Cas closer so that he was almost sitting on Dean’s lap, not that Dean would have minded. “We’ll work it out.” He knew that it was the most pointless thing to say in their situation, because there wasn’t much they could do.

“Together.” Cas promised.

Dean grinned and kissed Cas again. “Together.”

 

_The alarms were so loud, Dean could feel them resonate through his entire body. Instantly, he knew what they were for. The alarms in District 12 were reserved for one thing only, and it sure as hell wasn’t good news._

_Dean couldn’t sprint fast enough. He knew the way to Sam’s class off by heart, he had been there enough times before. Before long, he noticed someone behind him, and turned to see a girl with the same look of horror on her face, which mirrored his. The only reason Dean recognised her was because she had a younger sister in Sam’s class, and he sometimes saw her and her mother picking the girl up. By the look of terror on her face, Dean knew that she had a family member in the mine. A mother, a father, someone who she was now fearing for. Dean reached his hand back, and felt her fingers grasp against his. It was an empty comfort, the mutual fear somehow making the situation better and worse._

_They let go as they entered the same classroom, Dean reaching for Sam, the girl for her sister. The girl’s hand was replaced by Sam’s as Dean led his brother outside into the crowd of people all rushing towards the same place: the mine._

_They were stopped by Peacekeepers around the entrance, but Dean could already see the horror. Mangled and burnt bodies were being taken away on stark white stretchers, though Dean didn’t know where to. There wasn’t much of a hospital in District 12, just healers. Dean could see them now, leaning over the bodies. As soon as they were pronounced dead, the healers moved on, working with brutal efficiency that made Dean’s stomach heave. What if his father was already underneath one of those white sheets._

_He glanced down at Sam, whose face was marked with the most emotion Dean had seen since their mother died. Dean knew that if John died, Sam wouldn’t be able to take it. His childhood would well and truly be buried as deep as their mother’s grave, not that he’d had much of one to begin with._

_They waited long into the night. As time went on, less and less survivors were pulled out, and more and more bodies were. Sam’s hope had all but disappeared, and it was all Dean could but watch as his brother slowly crumpled beside him._

_John’s body was among the last, and all Dean could focus on when he came forward to identify him was that his left arm was missing, and somewhere deep in the heart of the mine, his wedding ring was lost._


End file.
